Defiance
by ForevermoreAlizabeth
Summary: To go against one's destiny, to prove wrong everything anyone's ever been told, to fight when one has been broken too many times takes more than unlikely alliances, forgotten memories, and a new threat to the world. It takes seeing things differently. It takes tragedy. It takes nightmares. It takes believing. It takes defiance.
1. Not Exactly Friends

_-Yes, I am back from the dead! I'm so sorry it took me so long to start this story, it just kept me in a constant cycle of writer's block from the moment I got the idea. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed the inner turmoil and mental agony that it took me to even get the plot outlined! If you have any ideas for the story or anything you want to see, feel free to leave a comment/review for they make me feel all tingly inside. So, without further ado, sit back, read, and enjoy!-_

_~A Long, Long Time Ago, In A Castle In The Moon~_

"..."

"..."

"...Oh, come now. Don't give her that look."

"..."

"What, cat got your tongue?"

"...Why are you here?"

"I take a sincere pleasure in seeing you writhe in pain?"

"..."

"Hm?"

"You knew."

"...Of _course _I knew. You couldn't spend one moment with that girl without seeing it, without guessing this inevitable outcome. What I wonder is why you're telling yourself that you _didn't _know."

"..."

"Aw, don't get silent on me now, old friend."

"..."

"What? Can't stand realizing that you truly did hurt her? Can't speak, being shown the proof of how you did her wrong, and the consequences?"

"How was I supposed to know?"

"Is that a serious question? Because if it is, I may just have to give you a condescending look and leave to brood over your ignorance."

"I...I just..."

"You just what? You thought that she would just be tickled pink over being forced into this without a say? That, of course, who _wouldn't _want to be a soldier for the all-mighty 'Man in the Moon'?"

"..."

"...Pathetic little man. At least I'm not brooding over losing a mere pawn."

"She was more than a pawn."

"Oh, yes. _That's _right. She was, wasn't she? And yet you go and do this to her, hm?...Well, if I'm not going to get an answer, I'll be leaving. I find your angst rather unamusing."

"...You did the same, didn't you?"

"..."

"You also wanted her, you wanted to use her for your own personal gain, didn't you? So why, _why _am I the wrong one? Why am I the only one at fault? What makes you so different, Pitchiner?"

"Pitch. That old name no longer belongs to me, now does it? No, I find 'Pitch Black' rather fitting for a man of 'my kind'."

"..."

"And as for your question, the answer is quite simple. You forced this upon her. You took everything, her life, her family, without a second thought. You think she wanted this? No...this was you. This was your decision."

"...And you?"

"_I _gave her a choice. I let her say 'no'."

"..."

"..."

"...Farewell, old friend. We'll be seeing each other again someday, I'm sure."

"..."

~_Present Day, A Small New England Town~_

The smoke before me twisted and danced in a way that made even the most graceful ballerinas jealous, moving silkily through the air and pirouetting before me as I crouched down on the roof, lifting out a pointer finger below the wisp of grey-and-black smoke. Almost instantly, like a dog to its owner, the misty-grey swirled like a ribbon and shot down a few inches, falling into itself and, in one easy movement, condensed into a grey, light, almost transparent butterfly. It looked up at me expectantly, wings fluttering easily open and closed, a small trail of smoke constantly fluttering about it.

I thought for a moment, mind mulling over the possibilities as the tiny creature emitted a small, constant scent. It was musky, deep, what one would imagine the color grey would smell like, floating around me in a pleasant aroma that I'd gotten used to over the billions of years I'd been alive. Kind of like a seriously demented perfume. As I breathed in this scent, some of the smoke flowing towards me as I did, I thought of what I wanted this little thing to do.

"His uncle kills his dog. Nothing too gruesome, just get the point across."I ordered mutely in the silence of night, the small butterfly instantly taking to the air, soaring up as the trail of smoke followed, a few wisps tickling my face as it clumsily and yet still gracefully flew up for a moment, and then took a nose-dive directly downwards into the window below me, passing through the glass without so much as a muted flutter.

I watched it go, cracking my neck and reaching inwards through the upturned hood of the black hoodie, running a hand across my neck in a soothing and stretching gesture. I felt the tips of straight-cut hair brush my fingers, reaching just below my jaw.

It had been a damn-long night, and I couldn't wait to get somewhere less suffocatingly freezing to take a moment's break before making even more people hate me for their tiny problems. The chill of winter in New England took in my thin, zipped-up black hoodie and old black jeans a tad too big on me and laughed, giving even the most immortal of immortals goosebumps.

"That seems quite harsh." I didn't even jump as the voice suddenly registered behind me, the smooth and dark accent breaking the peaceful quiet I'd finally found for myself, nor did I flinch at the presence that was too familiar by now to be caught off-guard by. Instead, I was just mildly irritated that I'd finally gotten a chance to relax, and now all I got was his sarcasm in a British accent.

"Tell me that when he founds the world's largest no-kill pound."I shot back, standing up and walking slowly towards the edge of the small, black roof, pausing just over a mini balcony, the kind that aren't meant to be actually _stood _on, just there for show. Almost without thinking about it, I stuck out a foot, a sudden flurry of smoke with the outlines of similar butterflies like the one I'd just sent through the window condensing beneath it. I stepped on the smoke-mass, the tendrils lapping against my worn, black sneakers, one foot following the other.

I turned and, using them like a constantly-moving staircase, made my way down until I could crouch on the railing in front of the window, the mist dissipating as I rested my arms across my knees and looked inwards. At my side, a black shadow rose up, quite suddenly and without any warning, casting darkness over the already-dark street, me just realizing that the streetlights that had given the quaint little neighborhood a warm glow had, mysteriously, gone out.

"What a wonderful addition to society."A sarcastic drawl mused out, making me roll my eyes and flick a small shadow away from my face, one of the few that steadily flickered out from the black robe next to me, belonging to an entity most people would cut their arm off rather than be as close to it as I was.

"Shouldn't you be swallowing mothballs under little kids beds instead of criticizing my impact on the future of the world?"I asked dryly, gazing through the clear glass of the window and watching as a teenage boy sat at a cluttered desk, weighted down with CDs and a massive desktop computer. I looked a bit closer as the man above me scoffed, trying to make out images on the screen of the boy's computer. From my angle, I could tell that whatever game he was manipulating had him walking through a dark forest, ripping little pieces of paper from trees.

"No-kill pound? Oh yes, I apologize for losing the significance of a building full of puppies."

"Keep talking and I'll lock you in one. You sound like you could use a little puppy-love."I quipped back at the man as the screen on the boy's computer started to go fuzzy, seeing him tense up a bit and quickly ghost his fingers across the computer keys. I tilted my head to the side, raising an eyebrow as I pointed inwards, cutting off whatever it was the man was about to say, "What the hell is this kid playing at one in the morning?"

The man ducked down a bit, his height surpassing mine even if I were standing, catching the reflection of gold-silver eyes in the glass of the window, narrowed and curious.

"Ah, yes. I believe it's called 'Slenderman'. Quite a quaint little game, if I do say so myself. Makes creating nightmares a tad easier."He mused out, almost happily and content. This only served to confuse me further, catching a glimpse of the gray butterfly fluttering under the boy's door frame as I continued to focus on the computer screen, which was growing more and more staticy by the second, the boy leaning forward tensely.

"'Slenderman'? Sounds like something you would- HOLY SHIT!"I screamed, jolting backwards so hard that I fell suddenly and without the mind-set to have my smoke catch me, jumping backwards off the balcony as a figure in a black tuxedo without a face suddenly popped up on the screen without warning. I felt a sharp sense of vertigo before I landed with a hard and painful jolt on something softer than concrete.

Something lightly brushed up against my arm and neck, opening my eyes and groaning a bit as an ache made its way through my spine. I looked down, seeing what had caught me as black sand shifted beneath my body, a few tendrils almost tenderly brushing against my legs and arms, before resting my head back and panting, allowing my heart rate to calm down again.

"You know, as the very embodiment of tragedy, I didn't expect a simple video game to make you almost pee yourself."A slightly-amused and apathetic voice quipped as its owner leaned over me, arms behind his back and brow raised, golden-and-silver eyes opened innocently and mockingly. The man, to most, was terrifying enough to make them run and scream, especially with him this close and his very own weapon beneath me and sliding over my arms and ankles.

And, to be honest, his looks didn't exactly encourage small children to run and play with him. Dark grey skin over angled features, thin lips forever in either a frown or a darkly amused smirk, with black hair naturally brushed back and spiked up like he'd been through one hell of a wind tunnel and his hair had just stuck that way. He also, almost as if to capitalize on it, wore a black robe that didn't truly seem to end anywhere, just faded into the ground as if he'd cloaked himself in one, large shadow, the black sleeves even slowly fading into his wrists.

Yes, to most, he was truly the 'Boogeyman'. To me, he was an annoying jackass that I couldn't do without.

"That was terrifying. It looked you."I panted out, blinking away the image and wondering, if games like that kept coming out, was my job about to get easier?

"Devilishly hansom? Hm, I must have missed that."He said airily, and I made a sarcastically agreeing sound, rolling my eyes. And, though he rolled his right back in an irritated manner, he flicked a wrist effortlessly and sent the sand beneath me rolling, pulling me lightly up without any force needed at all. After getting to my feet, shaking a few locks of black bangs from my eyes, the black sand swarmed below me and then rose up quickly at my side, morphing quite in the same way that my smoke did into a deformed rendering of a stallion that only Pitch Black could create.

It had sharp, armor-like shards pointing backwards, with a transparent and slightly purple ribcage and glowing, coal-like eyes. It was, by all means, an intimidating creature. But, much like the man standing before me, I couldn't quite catch the fearful cowl of it. Instead, I reached out a hand and brushed it gently over the nose of the horse, which whinnied and clonked a hoof in happiness, nuzzling into my hand and making me smirk a bit, enjoy the way that these creatures didn't appear angry and dark to me, much to their creator's chagrin.

"You know, most people would at least _try _to act afraid. It's a matter of manners."

"Don't start lecturing me on manners, Mr. 'let-me-appear-out-of-the-darkness-without-proper- warning'."I quipped back, ignoring the fact that he had just prevented a much more painful landing just a moment ago, focusing on brushing my fingers through the silky mane of the nightmare, the horse allowing a small rumbling sound of approval.

"You act as if I haven't been doing that for the past few billion years, darling. Find a new fault."He shot back apathetically. I looked back at him, slinging an arm over the back of the nightmare and resting on it, hooking a thumb in the front-pocket of my jeans and seeing the dark man brush off a bit of lingering sand from his shoulder.

"Don't give me an opening like that, it's too tempting. Why'd you show up, anyway, Pitchy? Thought you were taking a hiatus after those 'Guardians' handed your ass to you."I mused, in a way that was both curious and playfully insulting, unique only to me and Pitch Black. He raised a brow and asked in distaste,

"Pitchy?"

"Yeah, I like it. Think I might make it a new thing, ya know, make you more approachable to the ladies."I airily joked, continuing, "But you didn't answer my question. Last time I saw you you looked like hell, said you had to take a break from our rendezvous for awhile. That was only eight months ago, what changed?" Pitch shrugged, but broke eye contact and looked out into the street, me taking note of how, though he still had slightly darker circles under his eyes and didn't seem quite as ridiculously-power-hungry as usual, he had rapidly recovered from what had happened to him just a short while ago.

I took not of all these things, and hid the fact that, yes, I was secretly glad that he not only appeared better, but was able to reach the surface again. And it was sick, I was well aware. This was the Boogeyman, someone who spread fear to children like it was ice cream, the most powerful entity during the Dark Ages, until the Guardians showed up to ruin his fun. He was by every definition a not-nice guy, and it shouldn't be this easy to talk to him, and I should not miss seeing him on a weekly basis.

Most people would think I was crazy. Most would think I was evil by association. The rest would know I was evil by the product of my 'work', and would view this as just foreseeable. But most people would know what we had gone through. The rest want to know. And so, to me, this was something natural. Something not normal, not a friendship, but somewhat of a reliance on each other, on the only other person somewhat-alive who understood exactly what the other was going through.

So when I asked the question, it was out of a knowing that something was wrong, something was off in a way that only I could tell about him, and vice versa. He took another moment, and then sighed.

"He's planning something." I stiffened a bit, the nightmare beneath my arm nuzzling at my arm and aware of the sudden sense of dread and anger, the tense of my muscles as I knew exactly who 'he' was. An anger twisted in the pit of my stomach as I became acutely aware of the thin cloud cover up above, filtering beams of moonlight as if a shroud, preventing 'him' from hearing most of this conversation. Acutely aware of the fact that, though it was an immeasurable distance away, the feeling of being watched stretched from the moon to where we stood. I scowled.

"Something you think I can't handle? Please, what more could he do to me?"I asked cockily, trying to slide over my anger, knowing this man couldn't be fooled. It was my turn to look into the almost unseeable street, the lights above still blown out, as his eyes fell on me with skepticism.

"Never underestimate the mind of a selfish imbecile. You know better."He said in a voice both airy and warning at the same time. I shrugged, but was developing the feeling of restlessness, the clouds beginning to move at an unnaturally fast pace, as if the moon were trying to clear them from his view. I tried not to look up, though it was impossible to see him. He could see me. And I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort and unraveling bitterness.

"Astrid."Pitch said in an attention-getting way, me looking over at him finally and seeing a mildly concerned look over a frown, a look no one else would ever get from this man, a look I never thought I'd want from any one...

But after billions of years of adversity, to have someone actually care enough to be concerned brought an unfightable feeling of warmth and comfort, even coming from the Boogeyman.

"Hey, whatever it is, I'll be fine. I was last time, wasn't I?"I asked while gathering smoke beneath my feet, crouching a bit as the nightmare gave me one last nudge before Pitch snapped his fingers, the black sand disassembling and shooting back through his robe, almost morphing to him as he understood my signal of departure.

"You all this fine? I've seen mental ward patients who were more stable than you."Pitch tossed back just as playfully, and I couldn't fight back the cocky smirk on my face. He saw it and rolled his eyes in a way that he'd done too many times for me to be fooled by it and think that he was actually tired of me. If he were, he wouldn't have come back that first time. Nor the second time, when I damn-near killed the immortal. Nor the third, fourth, hundredth, or billionth time after that.

No, this eye-roll was almost a promise at this point. A promise that he'd come back and we'd both wallow in our angst and pretend to hate each other until the next time.

"Just be careful, you infuriating little brat."He mused as I began to push off, floating higher in the air with feather-light wisps of grey smoke twirling around me in an almost hypnotizing way. I looked down at the grey-skinned man below me, our eyes meeting for a moment. A moment of understanding. A moment of mutual suffering. A moment that only two people who had been abused so harshly could share. A broken look. A neglected look. A defiant look.

"See you soon, Boogeyman."I shot back endearingly, and then turned, gaze falling on the black sky before me, wondering if I could find a place just like that. All dark, or all lit with sunlight. A place where he couldn't see me, couldn't be a constant reminder of everything I'd lost. A place where I could actually do something without everyone hating me for it. A place where I wasn't a pawn.

"Hm, yes. Let's hope not too soon."I caught in the wind as I shot off, smoke gliding over my neck and through my hoodie, as if trying to reassure me.

I didn't stop to wonder what he meant by that. I just wanted to get out of the moonlight.

_~Pitch Black~_

The clouds tore a hole in themselves like tissue paper, allowing a space wide enough for him to gaze down, a moment too late to catch her, as if he ever thought he could. Instead, she was leaving, off to find somewhere where his gaze didn't suffocate her as it did me in this moment, his glaring light falling over me in a silent way. I looked up, frowning and brow pulled low, clicking my tongue twice in disapproval.

The moment was silent, and a small sense of hatred wound around my chest. Now, I was never one for chivalry, nor did I find myself truly caring for anything outside of myself and my own personal gains. I was not some dark, tragic hero looking out for anyone other than my own person, and I did not pride myself on doing anything particularly kind or favoring towards one party or the other.

But I'd felt her tremor of fear deep in my bones, where it was translated through the shadows. And yes, it was her fear, unmistakable for it was one that I did not feel often, was not one that was open or shamelessly displayed like most were. It was unique to her, because it was so faint, so almost indiscernible that even I had a hard time reading it in the beginning. But now it was unmistakable. It was a quick, heavily suppressed fear of something happening. Something worse, as if that were possible. As if he could have done anything more to hurt her.

And, as I'd felt that fear, a sense of anger and slight annoyance wound their way into me where I would never admit they were there, and yet were prevalent in my mind. I glared upwards, the distinct sense of some game being played once again washing over me, a sense that I'd gotten many times before. But this time was slightly different. This time the game had nothing to do with children or white-haired frost spirits. No, this time, I felt in my bones, it had to do with an old 'pawn'.

I was not chivalrous. I just found his choices in this game tiring and conceited. Especially when it had to do with, unfortunately, the only other entity who I shared anything with. Who I shared everything with, probably more than I should have. And it should have bothered me in all my immense selfishness, to be this close to someone where I would go out of my way to warn them. But it did not, and I'd grown tired of trying to _be _tired of it.

"Haven't you done enough to her already?"I asked, tone dripping with more venom than I'd care for. When I received only the numb glow of the moon, knowing very well that he could hear me, I scoffed, stepping further into the shadows. Before I wound them around me, before I left to stoke the flame of fear and regain what little strength I had left to find after the 'Guardians'' pathetic attempt at defeating me, I gave him, up in his safe little castle, an icy grin.

"You know, for a man who claims to love her, you are exceedingly talented at making her existence a living hell." The clouds rolled together again, and the moon was hidden, making a depreciating and mocking laugh snap out from my mouth, shaking my head at the lowly coward. As I closed my eyes and sunk into the welcoming darkness, I thought about how nice it would be to just disappear when things got painfully real.

How nice it would be to play a game you could not lose, so long as you sacrificed enough pawns.


	2. Prelude to Bigger Things

_-I apologize if Astrid's past and her and Pitch's...whatever they have...is a bit foggy at first. It will definitely be explained and touched upon later on. Thank you for your wonderful comments, and as always if there's anything you want to see or add just comment me! Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

_ "Big brother?...Big brother!...Big-"_

_"He can't hear you."_

_"Wh...what?...Why?...Big brother!"_

_"Astrid, come here."_

_"No! Where's my big brother! Why can't he hear me?!"_

_"Astrid-"_

"Ast-!" I cut the name off in my throat, having flung myself bolt-upright and slammed my head on a ceiling, disorienting me and adding 'pain' to my list of current afflictions. Not-breathing being one of them, one fist instantly flying up and clutching the space above my chest, the other hand braced against the old wood above me, splinters poking at my fingers as I stared wide-eyed below me.

Lungs tight and heart beating four paces too fast, trying to sort out exactly where I was and what was happening, I began to try and focus on my immediate surroundings. Directly below me there was a bed, the sheets completely ripped off the mattress and either tossed to the end of the bed or left in a crumpled heap on the floor. The posts of the bed were broken and bent in some places, but not in a way that was fresh, in a way that signaled that this bed had been somehow damaged in moving or over a long period of time.

Which would explain the moth-holes in the sheets and the room it was kept in, void of anything other than the bed, dust, and cobwebs. Over to the wall on my right side there was a large, circular window with the glass shattered out of it, again something that appeared to have happened long ago. From the uneven shards that still clung to the frame around it hung limp and dirty duct tape, having been torn down after someone tried to patch up the hole. That was fresh.

And, slowly, everything fell back into place. Last night, talking to Pitch. His warning. The moon, searching for me. A desperation to be anywhere else. The conveniently accessible attic window, complete with shady-looking bed that I half-expected Pitch to be under anyway. Falling asleep. The nightmare. Nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

But no, it wasn't just a nightmare. Because nightmares were just in your head, and I was damn-sure Pitch wouldn't give me one as even a sick form of joke. Nightmares ended when you woke up, they didn't follow you into reality.

_"...Why can't he hear me?..."_

I shook my head, taking a gulp of air and squeezing shut my eyes, slowly feeling myself drift back down to the bed, wisps of smoke dancing up my arms and through the fabric of my hoodie, the occasional flutter of wings trying to calm me. Only when I was seated back on the bedspread could I open my eyes, looking around the abandoned attic and hoping I didn't wake whoever lived in this house. Not that it would matter much anyway. Wasn't like any mortal human could see me, anyways.

I took another deep breath, shaking my head as my hair brushed across my face and neck, trying to shove down the all-too familiar images, the green valley, the little tree, the silhouette, the voice. I grit my teeth as I did, clenching my fists and mentally shoving it all down, all the images, all the emotions, knowing they were just provoked after what happened yesterday. I didn't need this right now. As if I needed it ever.

A more persistant fluttering in my jacket got my attention, and I finally was able to let out a sigh of exhaustion, feeling most of the panic and fear blow out with it.

"Alright, calm down, I hear ya."I muttered, reaching up and unzipping the hoodie, barring a bare stomach to the early-morning chill as, suddenly, a tiny grey butterfly flew out from the confines it had trapped itself in. I leaned tiredly forward and held out a finger for it, the tiny thing landing and fluttering its wings in an attention-getting way, making me raise an eyebrow and frown curiously. "What's up, little guy?"I asked airily, and it immediately dissipated into smoke, only to re-condense back into another shape.

It was a distinctly familiar silhouette, and I instantly understood what it was asking. I sat up straighter and looked around the room as the smoke formed back into a butterfly, brow furrowed as I realized that something, some_one_, was missing from this scene.

"Pitch?"I called, seeing a few shadows in the corners of the room but none of them alive, none of them even resembling the tall, dark figure that had, without fail, been by my side whenever a nightmare jolted me from sleep. For billions of years, countless nights, I'd woken up to a reassuring hand and a sarcastic quip or, in more serious cases when the fear that destroyed my sleep couldn't be cured with just him being there, with just another person by my side, something far more comforting. And no, the irony of being comforted after a nightmare by the Boogeyman was not lost on me.

But he'd always been here, or if he wasn't he'd warned me ahead of time, such as his eight-month absence underground.

"Hey, asshole, if you're hiding somewhere I swear on Mim's soon-to-be-grave..."I trailed off on the threat, expecting him to interject like he normally did. But this time, I was greeted only with silence. I huffed, frowning and glaring out around the room one more time. A frustration built inside me, the tiny butterfly on my finger rising up and dropping down on my head, fluttering its wings in my hair as I tried to push back the feeling that something was wrong.

I took pride in the fact that I was not attached to anyone or anything, not that there were many people to get attached _to._ It made it easy, I suppose, when people labeled me 'unapproachable' just because of what they assumed I did, just because the ones who knew me decided not to look at the big picture of what I did and found me just as 'unsavory' as Pitch. As if I wanted to be near ignorance, anyway. Hell, I could barely stand Pitch.

But Pitch was different. He wasn't an ally, wasn't a friend, and the next time he tried to take over the world with his little sand-horses I'd beat the living hell out of him...and then we would go right back to visiting each other on a weekly-basis, not out of friendship, but out of reassuring ourselves that there was someone out there who understood. Someone out there like us. And it didn't have to make sense, because we didn't really have anyone to answer to. Not anymore.

So no, I wasn't attached. But when something like this happened, I had to go make sure that he hadn't gotten his ass in trouble again, because even though we might detest the hell out of each other, we were also responsible for each other.

"Alright, let's go see what well he got stuck down."I muttered tiredly, swinging my legs off the bed and walking over to the window, removing my hoodie completely and laying it over the small shards of glass. While they couldn't seriously injure me, I preferred not to puncture myself. The butterfly on my head flew off and waited patiently outside the window for me, fluttering excitedly.

A cold gust blew into the window, making me curse quietly and rub a hand down my arm. And, for a moment in which I checked for goosebumps, I caught myself back in the same old nasty habit of pausing and looking at my arms. I kept my jacket on for reasons more than just being cold, wearing a top-rib-length, dark-brown shirt that was just as old as I was, a flower design sewn into the center of it. I just didn't want to see this, didn't want a constant reminder, because every time I looked down at them I couldn't just...not think about it. And I liked not thinking.

But when I looked down and saw deep indigo tattoos down my upper-arms, three arrows pointing downwards with a floral outline on the top, strictly contrasting with my white skin, a memory threatened to bubble back up. Paintbrushes. Cold paint. Laughing. The very last day.

A fluttering brought me back down to Earth, the stingy and insistent butterfly flapping its wings right in my face and making me gently shoo it back out the window.

"Alright! Alright! Damn, you guys are getting way too attached to him, you know that?"I scolded, the mist-butterfly simply waiting for me again. I sighed, shoving down the memory again, easier this time, as I jumped onto the hoodie and then out into the open air, the mist catching me immediately as I reached back and pulled the jacket from the window, snapping it out and pulling it back on. I took off just as I began to zip it back up, going up high enough into the sky to get the perfect view of a Main suburb in the morning.

"Okay, if you're so keen on finding him, lead the way."I mused to the little butterfly before me, and it instantly took off, as if waiting for its cue. I sighed, shoving my hands into my pockets and crouching low on the smokey cloud, following the trail of mist and cursing Pitch in my mind, at the same time hoping that the nagging sense inside me that was telling me that something wasn't right, was wrong.

_~North Pole~_

"Shostakovitch!" A massive crash was heard throughout the entire workshop as a massive man with a long, white beard and a thick Russian accent slid belly-first into the railing of the overlook, knocking down a yeti carrying a new box of tiny toy cars and causing several elves to throw themselves down the stairs trying to catch and jump into the mini-mini-coopers. Quickly followed by him was yet another loud exclamation, followed by a blue-and-grey blur sliding noisily across ice-slicked floor, only stopping when the figure ran into the larger man.

"Ooof! FROSTBITE!"An Australian-accented shout rang out from the 6,1 Pooka, fur bristling as he brushed ice and frost from his indigo-marked, floral-designed arms and legs, ears up high and a scowl in his emerald green eyes.

"Oh! Are you all okay?!"A delicate voice called, a woman entering the room at a blinding speed, a blur of gold, green, and purple feathers that covered her body and transparent wings fluttering at a rapid pace. She looked around, violet eyes wide and worried as little hummingbird/humans zipped around her. The Pooka reached back and, in one swift motion, brought out a boomerang from a brown strap across his chest.

"I'm a'right, but Snowflake's about ta-"

"Oh! Hey, there you guys are! Lookin' good Bunny, anger goes well with your brooding look you go goin' there."A younger voice interrupted, making all eyes turn to the young boy who suddenly flew into the room, bringing a quick, cold gust of air with him as he did. The boy gracefully dropped to the ground, leaning one arm on the hook of a sheapard's crook dusted with frost decorations, much like the chest and sleeves of his blue hoodie over a pair of brown pants.

"A'right, Twinkle Toes, yer gonna give me a whopper of a good reason for why ya decided ta ice the entire damn workshop, or so help me-"

"Aww, you don't like it, Bunny?"The boy asked teasingly, offering a sly smile and running a hand through messy, pure-white hair. E. Aster Bunnymund glowered at the young frost spirit, opening his mouth to let loose a new slew of insults when a large and heavy hand slammed down on his shoulder, causing him to almost fall forward on the already-slicked ground that the Guardians had stumbled upon during their speedy arrival.

"Es like ice-skating, no? Very fun! Good work, Jack!"The massive Christmas icon exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, only to lose his balance and slide backwards a bit, grabbing a hold of an innocent yeti to balance himself, causing the larger animal to nearly drop his massive plate of cookies.

"Fun? _Fun? _You call me nearly dislocating my arm fun?!"Bunny exclaimed, Tooth keeping safely in the air as she stifled a giggle.

"Aw, loosen up Cottontail. Though you guys could use a little fun, what with how 'serious' you're all being about this." The newest Guardian, Jack Frost, smiled at how Bunny glowered and grumbled, but replaced his boomerang all the same.

"Well, Sandy _did _sound pretty upset when he called us all here with his dreamsand. You don't think something bad happened, do you?"Toothiana asked in a worried voice, clasping her hands under her chin and darting from side-to-side.

"I'm sure it's nothing big,"Jack brushed off easily, flipping his staff so that it lay over his shoulders with his arms relaxing on it, walking around and dancing on bare feet over the slick ice, leaving trails of frost in his wake, "Probably just saw a stray nightmare s'all. Hey, North, toss me one!" The spirit continued, twirling his staff above his head and sticking it to the ice on the floor, jumping up to crouch on it with inhuman balance.

North took one of the cookies from the plate of the still-frantic yeti and, beaming wide, tossed it to the Guardian of Fun, who caught it easily.

"Oi, been runnin' inta those things all over lately. You don't think-"

"You don't think Pitch is back, do you?!"Toothiana interrupted fretfully, zooming down in front of Bunny, who raised his hands in a calming gesture, which did nothing for the constantly-moving Tooth Fairy as she simultaneously called out locations to her mini-helpers and began to fret over the current situation. "I mean I know it's only been eight months but what if he recovered really fast and I mean we just barely managed to defeat him last time and what if he's stronger now? Will we need a new Guardian and if we do will they even be enough and what about New Year's I mean the party's only a few days away and-"

"Tooth!"Jack and Bunny shouted simultaneously, the fairy suddenly stopping and looking behind both boys, panting and a bit flustered as she exclaimed in her high, delicate voice,

"Oh, hi Sandy! We were just talking about you!"

"Is that what that was?"Jack asked as he turned on his staff, all the Guardians grinning as, in the cockpit of a bright golden airplane made of tiny, glittering, golden granules of sand, the Guardian of Dreams flew in through a high window and pulled the plane to a graceful stop, the sand dissipating and gently setting the knee-high man with irreversible bed-head down on the ground.

"Sandy! Good to see you old friend! Look! Floor es slippey-slidey! Like waterslide, no?"North exclaimed in child-like wonder, moving his feet back-and-forth, making Bunny roll his eyes and cross his arms. Sandy smiled and nodded, hopping a bit on the ice without loosing his balance, golden bathrobe keeping him warm through the chill.

"Oh for bloody sake- Sandy, listen, I've got eggs ta prepare for Easter next year, ya mind tellin' us why ya caused such a rucus to get us togetha, mate?"Bunnymund snapped grumpily, Sandy looking up surprised, as if just realizing the large Pooka was in the room. Before the little man could speak, Tooth zoomed down and pulled her knees to her chest in the air, asking worriedly,

"It isn't Pitch again, is it?"

"Of course not! We defeat Pitch safe and sound, no? Yes!... Right, Sandy?"North exclaimed, sounding a bit less-certain at the end, all eyes turning to Sandy as he paused, looking up at all of them and taking in a deep, breath of air. He had a conflicted look on his face, as if unsure of how to word what he wanted to say, which seemed to be reason enough for Tooth.

She gasped and flew upwards a bit, exclaiming,

"It is Pitch, isn't it?!" Jack dropped down to the ground, suddenly a bit less sure of himself as he clutched the staff in both hands, giving Sandy a curious look. The little man waved his hands for silence, and then pointed above his head where images suddenly started dancing across, made of the same sand as the airplane and his bathrobe, telling a silent story. The images got progressively faster, to the point where only North could decipher what the smaller Guardian was saying, having spent more time speaking to the sleepy man than the others in the past few months.

When Sandy finished, North paused before translating, giving Sandy a concerned, confused look as the little man huffed tiredly and worriedly back.

"Well, what'd he say, mate?"Bunnymund asked impatiently, and North stood straighter, explaining in a concerned tone, brow furrowed,

"Sandy says that Man in Moon sent him message in dream last night, a...warning."

"Warning? About what?"Jack asked, trying to come off still calm and collected while at the same time feeling a bit...tense at the possibility of Pitch's return. What he'd gone through, from Antarctica to the final battle, were still too fresh in his mind. Sandy flashed more images, and this time North stopped him to clear up a few things before nodding and ushering him to continue.

"Warning about...new threat? Are you sure Sandy?...Yes, yes, I see... He sent you a dream of...darkness? Something very, very dangerous ahead...but was very vague, yes? Did you see what darkness was?"North asked, and Sandy shook his head, only throwing up images of dark shadows washing over a city and completely covering it, and then a big question mark above his head.

"Woah woah woah,"Bunny said, stepping forth with a serious look, "Shadows? The Man in the Moon? Listen, do we need anymore proof it's Pitch?"

"But...we defeated him, didn't we? There's no coming back after what we did!"Jack prodded, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice, Tooth's eyes flickering from one person to the next worriedly.

"Message was very vague, but with New Year's approaching I think it best to uncover every stone and turn them!"North exclaimed seriously, leaving Jack, Bunny, Sandy, and Tooth to give him confused looks. He glanced at each innocently, until Jack got a small smirk and asked, leaning on his staff,

"Oh, you mean 'don't leave any stone unturned'?"

"Yes, is what I said!"North insisted, and promptly ignored the looks of the other Guardians as he looked at Sandy, crossing tattooed arms over a broad chest and asking in a very un-Santa-more-Russian kind of way, "Sandy, can your dreamsand find the closest nightmare? Where they are I am sure Pitch is as well, like bird's and their feathers are the same!"

"...You mean 'like two birds of a feather'?"

"Es what I said! Now go Sandy, find for us!"

The Sandman nodded and closed his eyes in concentration, holding out his arms as dreamsand slowly filtered out from him, as if it were a part of him he was sending out on reconnaissance, the strands quickly exiting the workshop and flowing freely, Sandy keeping his face scrunched up in focus. The Guardians waited nervously, knowing that if Pitch were truly out-and-about, the chances of this new threat being him were too high to risk.

"Wait, even if we do find Pitch, who's to say it won't be a trap?"Jack asked, and North raised one finger, saying in all confidence,

"Pitch will not be expecting visit from all of us, for he does not know Manny has warned us!" As convincing as North sounded, it did nothing to sooth the nerves of the others, who still held back nervously as a tense silence fell over the room. Minutes passed by, and the ice beneath them began to melt, causing a few elves to run through and splash, one particular one just about to belly-flop into a nice, large puddle when, suddenly, Sandy jerked to attention, scaring the elf and causing him to go flying backwards.

"You found one?"Tooth asked in excitement and worry, Sandy nodding quickly and dissipating all but one of the strands of golden sand.

"Where is it, Sandy?"North asked, and Sandy whipped around the strand of golden sand, shortening it and pointing it to a spot on the massive globe before them, reaching from floor-to-ceiling and decorated with beautiful, foreign words and flickering lights, the dream sand pointing to a particular spot in Ontario, Canada.

"Very good! We will go there and find where Boogeyman is hiding, and stop him before he can ruin New Year's party!"North exclaimed, Bunny giving him a skeptical look and asking,

"And before he can, ya know, hurt the children?"

"That too! To the sleigh!"North boomed, Jack, Tooth, and Sandy all moving with him, only Bunny staying rooted.

"Nu-uh mate, that was a one-time deal! See ya gumbies there."Bunny said cockily to the surprised Guardians, tapping the ground twice with his hind leg. The floor beneath fell away to a dark tunnel, which, without a word, the Pooka jumped down into and disappeared in a blur of blue fur, the tunnel re-sealing itself almost instantly, leaving the other Guardians to rush towards the sleigh, having no idea exactly what they were about to throw themselves into. Not knowing that they were going to find much more than just a nightmare in Ontario.

_~Astrid~_

"Canada. I _hate _Canada. Why's it always gotta be so damn cold?!"I muttered angrily to myself, gliding in a crouched position on top of the smoke below below me, my hands shoved so deep into the pockets of my hoodie that I was surprised I hadn't broken the seam yet. I looked at the butterfly leading me and muttered once more, "You better not be messing with me, because I swear I will _feed _you to one of those nightmares."

In response, the butterfly rapidly flapped its wings three times and then took a straight nose-dive, the smoke beneath me immediately following it and making me call out in surprise, stumbling and barely managing to keep my footing, icy cold wind stinging my face almost painfully. The descent stopped as soon as it had begun, flinging me upwards as the mist evened out and stilled, me toppling backwards and onto what felt like smooth cement.

There was a thin sound of smoke dissipating as I rolled back up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of my head and looking up, glaring at the little butterfly that flew in front of me, almost in a way that said 'Hmp, see?'. I offered no response other than a quick flick of my wrist, dissipating the creature back into smoke that settled naturally back onto my hand, standing up and brushing myself off.

"Hm. Can't say I'm all to thrilled to see _you_ here."

I looked up, hearing Pitch's voice but not seeing Pitch himself. I glared, momentarily insulted and ready to rip him a new one, walking quickly and silently over to the edge of the apartment roof I'd landed on and balancing a black sneaker on the edge, leaning over. Down below, all the streetlights had been blown out except for one, glowing a dull orange hue down onto the grey sidewalk below, illuminating the very familiar, dark figure of Pitch...

But whoever he'd spoken to wasn't me. In fact, he wasn't even looking my way, instead seemingly focused on the shadows before him, where I could see a faint outline of something, but not enough to see any defining features. But I didn't need to see them. I didn't need any light. Because the voice that came next was more than enough to make me freeze, make my heart stop, make my blood run cold and tremor run down my spine as I clenched my jaw, eyes flying wide open.

"Makes two of us, don't it?"

No. What was he...what was he doing here? Shouldn't he be in some forest somewhere, or back in his quaint little paradise painting eggs or...or anywhere but _here?_ I seriously, seriously did not need this right now, didn't need this stress, didn't need to see or hear him or speak to him or... A memory slammed into me so hard it almost lost all of my breath, trying to remain as silent as possible as I clenched my teeth together so hard I thought they might break, squeezing my eyes shut.

Great. Just my luck. I go looking for Pitch, and then he just so happens to have run into _him_. Him, who I hadn't seen in thousands of years. Him, who I didn't want to see for another few thousand, and then a few more after that. And then to have a memory try and claw its way back up into my consciousness, a memory of angry shouts and confusion and hurt and-

"My my, how pleasant you are at small-talk. Honestly, I've spoken to brick walls who had more personality than you do, rabbit." Pitch's voice broke me from my thoughts, pulling me back as the memory got shoved into the back of my mind, clawing a silent breath of air into my lungs and opening my eyes, swallowing a tightness in my throat.

"Oh, I'll teach ya somethin' 'bout brick walls, mate!"I heard an Australian accent snap out, and I cursed Pitch silently. Of course. He's out and about after eight months and _this _is who he runs into! Before anything else could happen, a tightness in my gut that I tried and failed to ignore, something else in my chest that had been suppressed enough to keep at a tolerable level, I jumped.

There was a whizzing in the air, everything moving so fast that even I couldn't place exactly where I'd landed, how the smoke was able to catch me in time, or how I'd managed to end up standing in front of Pitch, standing straight with my hand on my hip, the other hand cockily holding up a wooden boomerang that was all-too familiar. I heard Pitch tense slightly behind me, for just a moment, and the small noise of surprise that came from the silhouette in the shadows.

I raised an eyebrow, deciding that if this had to go down, I might as well do it in style.

"Didn't your momma ever tell you not to throw boomerangs at strangers?"I asked airily, twirrling the boomerang absent-mindedly in my hand in a skilled and practiced way that I cursed myself for, stopping as the figure before me finally stepped forward into the light, another boomerang in hand and a scowl on his face.

This man couldn't really be considered a 'man'. Not due to age, no, just...species. He stood tall and upright, a full 6,1 though he was, by loose and anthropomorphic definition, a bunny. Albeit the most intimidating bunny to grace this planet, with a brown leather sling going across his chest that normally held two boomerangs, on the one he held in his hand and one I held in mine, wrist cuffs and thin twine wrapped around his large feet, dark indigo markings on his arms, legs, and forehead, contrasting with the rest of the lighter blue fur.

And narrowed, dark green eyes. Eyes that, if I looked close enough, I could see my own reflection in them. And if I stood still in that reflection, I'd see a small girl with black hair and pale skin, in clothes just a teensy bit too big for her. But if I moved even an inch under the light above me, it was something else entirely. I'd see a shimmer of a blue identical to that of the fur in the markings of the rabbit's arms. I'd see blinking green eyes, a shade darker than his.

I remained perfectly still as his eyes narrowed and his eyes flickered towards the boomerang in my hand, scoffing and saying angrily and mockingly,

"Well look who it is. Figured someone like you'd be on terms with the Boogeyman." I fought down the sting of pain in my chest and kept a calm air, teetering the boomerang on one finger in a way that made him tense up. I smirked a bittersweet smirk and quipped right back,

"Don't be so happy to see me again, Aster. What's it been, four, five-thousand years? I expected at least a back-slap of camaraderie."

"Oi, see ya still got a screw loose, shiela."Aster quipped too easily, getting a cocky smirk on his face as I visibly stiffened, hand wrapping hard around one end of the decorated and sharp boomerang. I bit my lip and tried to make my sudden tensing look like anger, which was surprisingly easy, instead of the ripping pain I felt through my chest. I could feel Pitch's eyes on me, but I couldn't acknowledge him with the emotional and mental war waging inside of me. I tried to look calm, even as he continued in a nonchalant, mocking tone, "Not still harpin' on 'bout none sense, are ya love-"

"Astrid!" I heard Pitch's warning snap, but ignored it, turning my wrist and flicking the boomerang so hard and with such precision that E. Aster Bunnymund himself looked shocked, having to actually flinch back and duck as he barely caught the very tip of the boomerang above his head. I flinched to move again, but a steadying hand lightly brushing the back of my elbow stopped me almost instantly. It was a barely-there touch, one that no one but I could know about, and yet it was firm and commanding.

It was warning, and reminding. I paused, taking in a deep breath as I glared forward but forced myself to calm down, knowing that doing _that _to him wasn't going to solve anything. Who knew what kind of tragedy the smoke would inflict on him anyway. There were too many to choose from, whether he knew it or not.

"Vat es going on? I hear ruckus!" From up above us there came a loud crashing sound, followed by the loud whinnying and thumping of what sounded like horses and their hooves, the creak of wood making us all jump and look up in confusion. On the apartment I'd found my original perch in, I could make out the top-half of what looked like...a giant freaking sleigh, pulled by eight reindeer.

And who was calling down to us but jolly old Nick St. North himself, looking confused and curious. Now, having never actually seen the big guy in person, I was more focused on how Santa Clause had some intense ink-work than the fact that...well...Santa Clause was on the roof. From where he stood, a blur of green, gold, and purple shot towards Aster with a low humming sound, only able to make out that it was a half-woman-half-hummingbird when she stopped mid-air.

"You found Pitch!"She exclaimed, voice delicate and high as she turned, wings transparent and moving too fast for me to keep up, her face going from excited to confused in a second, the feathers surrounding it ruffling a bit. Before she could speak, an icy-cold wind blew by and blew her into Aster for a moment, me looking back up to the roof where a young boy was flying down from, using that icy wind he'd kicked up to gracefully land on the ground in bare-feet.

I looked at the kid for a second, seeing the white, messy hair, blue hoodie with frost on the shoulders and chest, brown pants tightened with leather, and twisted sheapard's crook, and something in the back of my mind pulled. I narrowed my eyes at him, seeing an easy-going, carefree look in his eyes as he said something that made Aster seethe, and then turn to me and Pitch, his face instantly shadowing and tensing, his grip on the staff tighter.

"Nothin', North ya old date! Jus' dealin' with business while you all take yer damn time gettin' here!"Aster exclaimed, me looking from one eclectic individual to the other, a sinking feeling falling in my gut. Great. Just great. This is what I get for making sure Pitch is okay. The entire freakin' cast of 'Rudolph's Christmas Special' shows up.

"Wait, who...who are you?"The Tooth Fairy, whom I presumed she was by default, asked with a suspicious and curious look on her face, fluttering forward. I paused, looking from her to the young boy, whom was still invoking a weird tug in the back of my mind, to North who was still standing on top of the apartment, all looking confused and a little bit more than suspicious. In fact, the only who wasn't looking at me was Aster, who was busying himself with scoffing and rolling his eyes.

Seeing that and getting a new found sense of cocky anger, I raised an eyebrow and mused out in a deadpan,

"Fan club Astrid is just soaring now days, ain't it?" When they only gave me more confused looks, I rolled my eyes and placed my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, turning to Pitch as I said, "Can you believe these-" I cut myself off, jumping about three feet backwards as, right in front of Pitch's face and therefore too-close for comfort, floated a spirit I knew quite well, though never having actually met him.

He stood on a cloud of golden sand, much like that of Pitch's nightmare sand, with a robe made of the exact same material, golden-tinted skin and eyes with golden hair that stuck up in a serious case of bed-head. While he stood just over two feet tall, the little man did seem a bit intimidating with one fist punching into an open palm, a glare on his face. And, while the look on Pitch's face was absolutely priceless, I decided to intervene before this mess got messier.

"Woah, woah, woah!"I said, stepping back next to Pitch with my hands raised, the little man looking at me a bit surprised, glancing angrily at Pitch. "Ya know, for guys who protect children, you're pretty poorly-mannered."I mused out sarcastically, Aster exclaiming,

"You threw a bloody boomerang at my head!" I turned to him and pointed, saying rather childishly,

"You threw it first!"

"At _Pitch_!"Bunny defended, the others taking a few steps back and looking between us, a bit confused.

"Oh, I can just feel the love."Pitch mused in a deadpan, Aster snapping,

"Oi! We're only here cuz 'a you!" Both Pitch and I gave him a curious look, Pitch moving around me and asking, stepping into the shadows and disappearing,

"Oh, is that so? You thought you'd like to try your hand at defeating me again?" His disembodied voice echoed through the street, me just rolling my eyes at his bravado as the others tensed and looked around. I, at the moment, wanted nothing more than to get out of this situation, go somewhere quiet and get away from HIS little servants, get away from Aster, get away from...just _here._

"Quit it Pitch!"The boy shouted in a voice slightly too-deep for him, raising the staff in his hands as I noticed frost covering wherever he touched. Oh, Jack Frost. Now why does that sound familiar? "We know you're up to something!"He continued, and at this I let out a laugh, all eyes suddenly on me as I reached a hand into the shadows next to me, instantly grabbing onto and arm and yanking Pitch out, hearing his protests as I pointed to him.

"This guy? He can't fight his way out of a paper bag right now."I mused calmly, and while the others continued to look on in confused suspicion, I actually saw the young boy, about my age when he was 'chosen', have to stifle a bit of a laugh. Pitch yanked his arm from my hand and I looked up innocently, meeting his glare as he retorted in a deadpan,

"Oh thank you sincerely, whatever would I do without a friend like you?" I groaned, rolling my eyes as the others shifted uncomfortably around us, saying angrily,

"Stop being so sassy, I'm defending you here!"

"Oh really? Is that what that was?"Pitch mused back, and I shook my head, opening my mouth to say something else, feeling the confused eyes of the Guardians around us, when I was cut off.

A massive, muted pop sounded through the air, sounding like someone shot off a massive pistol that was powerful enough to send a tremor through the ground, vibrating up into my bones and making me take a step back. I closed my eyes and shook my head, everyone suddenly dead-silent as a massive, almost vibrating sound began to pulsate from somewhere farther down from us, the night almost trembling in the disturbance.

While everyone else looked at each other in fear and confusion, I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath as a sudden wave of tragedy floated through the air and filled my lungs...but this wasn't normal. This wasn't the smell, the feeling that tragedy gave off when I sent it out. This was...almost polluted with something else, something thick and mottled like mud in the water, breathing in and sticking to my lungs and throat.

I shook my head, trying to brush it off and knowing that it wasn't anything I'd done, knowing this smell wasn't me and wasn't normal tragedy, but with the familiar undertone of how it normally felt. I opened my eyes, something heavy falling in my stomach as I looked up at Pitch, suddenly forgetting about the Guardians around us. He was looking down at me, eyebrows drawn and a confused frown on his face, eyes narrowed and fierce.

"You know about this?"I asked, and he raised his hands innocently. While the Guardians had been accusing Pitch of _something_, and while I hadn't been completely convinced of his innocence, whatever this was...it felt off. It felt...almost wrong in a way. Pitch and I shared a look, and without a word or a second thought we both shot up into the air, him on a cloud of black sand and me on a transparent carped of smoke.

Up in the clear night air, above the rest of the apartments, I got a good view of what it was that had made that sound, the thing that was creating a vibration through the city and had that faint, almost undetectable undertone of mottled tragedy and something else. And, in a moment, Pitch and I both paused, the other Guardians who could fly slowly making their way up. And we looked at what was in front of us. And, in the stunned silence between us, I could only find one proper thing to say to describe exactly what it was that I was looking at.

"...Well shit."


	3. Useless Denial

_-Thank you all for the lovely comments! I'll try to update as quick as possible, usually it's a daily thing but there may be two or three days in-between. Also, I suggest listening to 'Bang' by Armchair Cynics during the action portion of the following chapter. As always, leave me your thoughts and suggestions, and enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

"...Well shit."I deadpanned, frown falling onto my face as I inwardly groaned, thinking that I could have just gone somewhere and done my thing, waiting for the next time Pitch and I met up to ask him about his disappearance. But nooo, I just _had _to go see if he was okay. I just _had _to get involved in his and Aster's meeting. One would think that, after everything I'd been through, I'd learn to keep my nose in my own business and stay far away from danger.

And now...this.

It floomed over buildings and seeped between alley streets, rising up hundreds of feet tall and rolling like living, breathing thunder clouds. I squinted, taking a small step back as I tried to wrap my head around what exactly this was, having never seen anything like it from Pitch before, and knowing damn-well that no spirit could make something like...well...this thing.

It was basically one, giant storm cloud that moved along the ground, inky black and slowly growing taller and taller until, in certain places, it collapsed back into itself and began to build up again. The night was already dark, but with this thing even the starlight seemed to be snubbed out, chasing away all the light, and I might have panicked had I not spent so much time around Pitch. I'd seen the worst nightmares possible, been front-row-seat to some of Pitch's earliest creations before he settled on the design of his nightmares, even seen swarms of fearlings gathering and intertwining with each other into an impenetrable mass of darkness...

But there was something about this thing that was off. It wasn't smoke, wasn't dream sand, wasn't stray fearlings or nightmares. It pulsated, and it took me awhile to notice that there were little things jumping off of it that did greatly resemble fearlings, skinny limbs and hollow eyes with no distinguishable features, but they seemed much more...skeletal, almost like gangly spiders with half their legs torn off, all jumping out and then back in, forming back together only to jump out again moments later, working together to morph into the black mass that barreled towards us.

I'd lived for upwards of three billion years, and I'd never seen anything like it. And, had I been slightly more sain and less used to seeing new and odd things, and had I had less apathy to actually stop and fret over the fact that whatever this was was probably some new form of threat, or possibly something Pitch really had done and he just wasn't telling me, then maybe I'd have paused for a second to reflect on my current situation.

But I wasn't, so I didn't.

"The bloody hell is that?"Pitch asked, eyebrows furrowed and hands behind his back, looking relatively calm despite his confusion and irritation. I gave him a quirked smirk, crouching low on the sheet of smoke and asked, a bit of excitement building up in me, ready to relieve some stress,

"Dunno, but it looks like it's coming this way. Scared?" Pitch gave me a challenging, half-smirk, raising his eyebrows and musing,

"Me? Darling, 'scared' checks under its bed at night to make sure I'm not there." I didn't need any more convincing than that, both of us with a bit of a glint in our eyes and a complete disregard for the utter seriousness of the situation. When you've been alive for as long as we had, it was hard to take anything seriously. Even giant cloud-monsters.

"Let's go!"I shouted, shooting forward faster than Pitch or any of the Guardians below us who I'd disregarded could respond, smoke around me feeding into my adrenaline and fuming out, snapping like thunder. I barreled forward to meet the mass ahead of me, the creatures within seeming to respond to my challenge and picking up speed, the noise from the darkness and the smoke below me whipping around and cracking through the air, sounding like standing under a massive waterfall, deafening.

I kept going, a dangerous game of chicken being played as the creatures did not relent, now closer and able to make out hot-red eyes, snarling faces and crooked hands reaching out and broken-looking, as if clawing their ways out and towards me. I crouched lower, smiling wide and excitedly, heart pounding in my chest in a way that I 'd greatly missed, in a way that wasn't bad or scared or angry.

In a way that made an immortal feel alive.

The space between us was shortening by the second, the wind whipping my face and throwing my hair back, body tensing and arms held back, fingers toying excitedly in the air, the smoke behind me gathering and accumulating, coiling in a dangerously graceful dance, condensing and boiling over with energy and power. Fifty yards between us. I took in a deep breath, something building in my stomach and chest, something powerful and coiling inside of me, ready to explode. Veins vibrating with adrenaline, the black mass now blocking out every and anything else, the creatures making loud shrieking sounds that were faintly muted by each other. Twenty yards.

"NOW!"

I slammed my hands forward, a torrent of smoke shooting forward, fired like a gun as a sound 'pop'ed loudly in the air, the noise now blocking out any and everything else. The black-grey smoke floomed past me at a whiplash-like speed, blowing my hair forward now on my face as I released the coil of energy inside with a massive, wild yell, everything now mixing black-and-grey. And one would think that a little smoke couldn't possibly even _slow down _creatures like this, creatures that could make a mass such as this.

And one would be dead wrong. The shrieks of the creatures turned from a feral battle-cry to agonizing pain, the black mass exploding outwards as creatures separated from each other, trying to get away as the ones directly in the path became enraptured and coiled, writhing and flailing in pain as the smoke sizzled and popped, squeezing them quickly and, in the blink of an eye, snuffing them out of existance.

But it wasn't over yet, the ones that had managed to get away acting without fear and without hesitation, shooting around the cloud and now singular beings, jumping through the air and screeching like monkeys, claws barred and raining down on me. But I was ready, jumping into a back-flip and passing over a dark figure, hearing a new wave of shadows burst forth, accompanied with the whinnying of horses and the orange, lit-coal-like eyes of nightmares.

Pitch fought like it was a game, me landing behind him as his arms flew out to his sides, the nightmares barreling forward like soldiers in the thick of war, slamming into the individual creatures and ripping them apart with angry and sharp-toothed maws, stomping them out with hooves and spare blackness wrapping around them and snubbing them out like my smoke had.

Pitch and I worked in perfect cadence, almost like a dangerous dance as he flew out to my side and sent nightmares into the first barrel of new creatures, me jumping up and surprise-attacking the ones who went over the wall of nightmare sand and destroying them with two massive pillars of smoke, smoke that didn't disappear with its victims but simply shot back and around to me, only to cirlce around my constantly-moving arms and fly backwards with even faster momentum than before.

I laughed, the energy and excitement building up inside of me as Pitch and I jumped and spun, nightmares and nightmare sand and fearlings and smoke and creatures all colliding and screaming and exploding and flooming out until the entire night sky was one giant battlefield of smoke and darkness, two figures moving in the midst of it. I caught sight of Pitch to my right, and turned to him, our eyes locking for a moment until he nodded, and I gave a lop-sided, excited smirk.

"You think you're up for it, Boogeyman?"I shouted over the deafening battle above us, and he gave me a sarcastic, venomous smile.

"Just try to not mess this up, love."

We both shot out to opposite sides, me flying through the nightsky as the smoke beneath me easily kept up, rising and falling and dancing with the speed of nothing ever seen before, with the fierceness of transparent dragons, elegance of some dangerous creature. I skidded, throwing out a leg and using the momentum to turn around, Pitch no longer anywhere in sight as the darkness and nightmares fought back against the losing creatures.

And then the nightmares, fearlings, and smoke were all called back. It would suffocate anyone other than me, all of the smoke that blocked my vision and danced across my face, now so thick that it was no longer transparent but more like a quick-silver wall of shifting and dancing smoke, energy-charged and almost vibrating, in the thick of battle and responding to the pulse that pounded through my veins. I pulled my arms out to my sides and the smoke tensed, then moves faster than ever before, knowing what was about to happen, knowing that it was time.

And, while the creatures were caught off-guard and recovering, disoriented from the assault we'd launched only to have a strange peace, a calm before the storm. Because that's exactly what it was. Pitch and I had our fair share of fights against other spirits who thought they could earn their spots in the ranks by messing with us. Most times it only took one of us, but the few times that it required a team effort, what followed could only be described as _epic._

I didn't need a signal, didn't need words, didn't need a sound uttered. I knew when it was time, and so did the smoke and the nightmares. My muscled shifted under my skin in my arms, stomach tight, breath hitching excitedly as I jerked, and then slammed my hands forward with the strength that I'd been legend for, the sky suddenly exploding even harsher than it had the time before, but this time not disjointed, not a helter-skelter painting of individual little creatures.

This time, it was two massive torrents of two different armies slamming mercilessly into the creatures between us that had fallen into the trap. It all happened so fast that they had no time to react, no time to move, no time to disjoint. Like catching a flock of pigeons.

The smoke and the darkness slammed into each other and crushed whatever was between them, mixing in the middle into a massive, insurmountable explosion of black-and-grey that danced upwards at all sides and shot out faster than they'd even been sent in, twirling around one-another as if they were playing a game, the shrieks in the middle suddenly choked silent. We both paused for a moment, and then with a quick flick of our wrists the smoke and shadows suddenly jolted and then dissipated up into the sky, twirling and going out like a light or bubbles gone up too high.

And, just like that, the night fell silent. The sky became clear. The starlight timidly shone back into the darkness. And all that could be heard was my panting and Pitch brushing sand from the shoulder of his robe.

Pitch and I may be the most controversial spirits ever to make their way into the books. We may be hated. We may be cast out. We may be the dark horses, the black sheep. But you can't count us out when it comes to power.

Still buzzing in the aftershock of adrenaline, I jumped forwards, skidding across the sky until I was back to where I'd started, hovering just above the light post where the Guardians all now stood, North having found a way down with the others. But I didn't see them, didn't care. _That _was exactly what I needed, I didn't care what it was or why it was there. I just cared that I felt damn good.

Pitch slowly floated over to me, hands behind his back and face trying to seem apathetic, but with a certain glint in his eye and an almost barely-there upturn of his lips. I grinned back and quickly punched him in the arm, laughing when he glared at me and saying,

"C'mon Boogeyman, lighten up."

"That...that was pretty awesome."

Both Pitch and I looked down, confused and mildly surprised as the frost spirit quickly cleared his throat in embarrassment, taking a small step back as I crouched, the smoke descending until I was touching the ground, standing up just as Pitch walked calmly out of a shadow to my right. Jack shrugged and rubbed the back of his head, Aster rolling his eyes and after what I'd just vented, I didn't even care.

Feeling lighter than ever before, as if I'd expelled all my worries on that one battle, I bowed low and dramatically, saying teasingly,

"Always glad to entertain, Frostie." I straightened up when I thought I heard him let out a breath of laughter, but North stepped forward and blocked my view of the small boy. I looked up at the massive man and, to my surprise, he looked...almost impressed. I took a suspicious step backwards, furrowing my brow and wondering what kind of remark he was going to make next, wondering if that smile and those wide, bright eyes were actually going to say something...not hostile. Afterall, most spirits didn't take kindly to outward displays of what _else _my smoke could do.

"Haha!"He exclaimed joyfully, raising his hands up as Pitch and I exchanged a look of subtle confusion before I glanced back at the behemoth of a Guardian, who scratched his white beard with a large hand as he said, smile on his face, "If you were not on side with Pitch, you might do well to help us against whatever big scary thing was!"

Oh.

"If I wasn't on sides with Pitch?"I asked, raising an eyebrow and feeling a bit of something akin to subtle resentment building inside of me, North looking down at me with that smile of his, eyes innocently wide. Ignorance written across his face. I tilted my head to the side and shoved my hands into my pockets, flipping a black bang from my eyes as North said simply,

"Yes, of course! I mean that was magnificent display of strength! But you understand we can have no threats of Pitch coupled with whatever that was, yes?" I felt something click inside my mind, and before I could stop them, before I could remind myself that it was a hopeless cause, before I could wonder why it even mattered, that these were the _Guardians, _basically Manny's freakin' lap dogs and whatever I said would hit a brick wall, I took a step forward and mused in sarcasm and venom,

"Threat of Pitch? Listen here big man, first thing is that I'm a _hell _of a lot more dangerous than Pitch if it were actually me who you were fighting against. Pitch has morals, I don't."

"I do?"'

"And the second thing, are you seriously thinking that just because I fight with him, that just because I know him, that just because I'm friends with Pitch-"

"We aren't friends."

"-That I'm big and bad? That I'd actually try and 'betray' you guys because, of course, since I'm the big, bad Astrid, that I can't be _good_? That I'm, by association and default, _evil?_ You know, just because you're all Guardians, just because Manny puts you on a freaking pedestal, just because you protect children with holidays and candy that you're so much better than me? Better than us? You don't even _know _me, big man, and you're willing to take on whatever the hell that was all on your own, just because you assume I'm bad? Just because I'm not sugar-and-gumdrops and Pitch is the Boogeyman doesn't mean that what we do is bad, it just means you're too ignorant to see the big picture, just means you've been too damn sheltered to actually understand that everything might not be what it seems-"

"Actually, I _did _try to take over the world with fear-"

"-God_damnit _Pitch! I'm trying to do a fucking speech over here!"I snapped, turning to the King of Nightmares as he raised two hands in innocence, shrugging non-chalantly as I panted, but the anger inside of me was already beginning to wind its way down, the adrenaline that fueled the fire quickly dwindling, leaving me just tired and cranky.

"...I...I do not understand."I heard North say, and I laughed, rolling my eyes and looking back. He no longer had that jolly old smile on his face, but instead an almost child-like confusion, thick black eyebrows drawn in and eyes clouded over. Behind him, I saw a timid-looking Tooth Fairy, her eyes darting to and fro, feet never touching the ground, with a surprised and awkward-looking Sandman next to her, Aster glaring next to him, and then Jack Frost standing noticeably farther away from all of them, hands gripping his staff...

And a look on his face that was almost surprised, but not confused... I shook it off, needing suddenly to get out before my good mood was spoiled even further.

"'Course you don't."I muttered, shaking my head and turning, jumping up and landing on a cloud of smoke, standing straight up as I gave a half-hearted raise of my hand in departure, turning over my shoulder and catching one last look at Aster, who was fuming. Seething. And I tried to see someone else in those eyes, someone from a long, long time ago.

But I couldn't. Not now, anyway.

Before I could turn back, I saw Jack Frost looking from me to where Pitch had been, him having already disappeared in a frustrated and tired sigh, and then back to me. And I could tell you what it was about the kid that I liked, couldn't say what set him a little bit apart from the others, but there was just something about him that made him...different. Like he wasn't like the others, too young to have been corrupted, too open-minded like I remembered being in my own youth. Some sort of spunk in the kid, a bit of tragedy wafting from him now that I thought about it.

I smirked at him and winked, calling back,

"Seeya Frostbite, try to keep Aster from having an aneurysm, will ya?" I turned before I could see the look in his eyes, pushing my foot a bit forward and darting off, leaving the others behind me and sighing, wondering how I could have felt so amazing one second, and then gone back to tired and irritated the next. Couldn't anything good just last more than a few seconds?

_~E. Aster Bunnymund~_

_ "Aster...what? You mean..."_

_"I mean what, sheila?"_

_"...I just thought, after you..."_

_"Wanna try__makin' some sense,__cuz__ya sound like ye've got the wrong person here,__anklebita'."_

_"...Why can't you just remember? I mean, I know that I...I mean...I _tried_."_

_"Listen, I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout...who are you, anyway?"_

__"Found it!"I jumped out of my chair as North stormed back into the library, nearly cutting one of my paws on the edge of the boomerang I'd been tracing for the past twenty-five minutes while the old date decided to dedicate himself to finding Astrid in the history books in his special library, separate from this one. Unfortunately, that meant the rest of us had to coop up in the dusty old room while he went off on a gander that he'd read the name 'Astrid' somewhere before.

I shook myself from the memory, tried to distinguish between the girl who'd been bloody near hysterical, as if someone just stepped on her Easter egg, and the cocky, dangerous, dark girl I'd just seen beat the living hell outta whatever it was that we'd run into out there, something North deemed less important than actually figuring out who the girl was in the bloody first place.

Agreeably, I was curious too, but that threat was more important than some personality-disordered freakshow who we'd probably never see again! So what if she could beat those creatures black-and-blue? It was like askin' a tiger to get rid of bees! We'd solve the problem with an even bigger one!

But still I was forced to sit there, grumbling quietly to myself, fur bristling as Jack did whatever it was he did with frost on the windows, Tooth darting around to her baby teeth and chattering directions like she was paid to do it, and watch Sandy doze off just above the desk. With North's entrance, Sandy had jolted awake and moved away from the top of the desk, North quickly brushing the granules of sand off before slamming down the biggest bloody book I'd ever seen.

It looked like it had been kept somewhere behind a bookshelf a tick too long, with pages far-past yellowed and tattered, dust that seemed like a second covering by this point, and words so old and faded that I could barely make 'em out, written in looped cursive that I caught Jack squinting at, confused. I leaned forward a bit, not wanting to let on how half-heartedly curious I might have been about the sheila, at least wanting some confirmation that she was bat-crazy.

"Is this about her?"Tooth asked, pointing to a page with a small, delicate and agreeably well-painted diagram of a wisp of smoke in the upper-corner, still with a striking resemblance to what Astrid had controlled like it was a bloody battle-axe despite aging beyond comprehension.

"Yes! Took so long to find, but I finally remembered that I'd come across name in very first book I obtained for library! Was so long ago, I was quite dashing lad."North said with a smile, dazing off as I snapped, getting his attention back with a start.

"Oi, come back ya gumby. What's the book say 'bout that sheila, huh?"I asked, sitting back as Jack settled next to Tooth in the air, North and I the only ones on the ground as he leaned his massive frame over the book, looking it over with his eyes, reading for us as the words were in an ancient language even Sandy didn't appear able to decipher.

"Book says: Astrid. Ancient spirit, and the first ever created by Man in Moon." I gave a start as North spoke, reading in an accent that was already hard to understand, wondering if I'd caught that right.

"The first?"I asked, placing the boomerang back in its holder and replacing it with a still-unpainted egg, pulling out a brush from the front pouch as I shrugged and continued, "Then why'd we neva' meet her?"

"If I may continue,"North said, nodding to me as I rolled my eyes tiredly, "It says she was chosen as first spirit to set up the world as something safe for children, a world where the Guardians could keep children safe with Wonder, Hope, Dreams, and all things child needs to be safe. She was meant to be the Spirit of Tragedy."

Tooth made a little gasping sound, but I wasn't as surprised as I should have been. Made perfect sense, Tragedy and Nightmares to be 'buddies', as dysfunctional as it seemed.

"She was to rid world of all Tragedy in the coming of the spirits to follow, to help un-do what had been done by Pitch Black. She was to be first light in the Dark Ages..."North continued, and then gave a pause.

"So...what happened?"Jack asked, and I looked up at him when I heard a level of worry and curiosity in his voice, seeing his eyes digging holes into the book, as if if he tried hard enough he might be able to read it. There was a sudden downturn in North's voice as he continues, my paint strokes slowin and one ear twitching upwards absentmindedly.

"...Apparently, without warning and soon after first Guardians were chosen, she chose to neglect her job. Astrid had all the tragedy of the world under her power, and instead of preventing it, she gave it to the world, giving some generations their first taste of the horrors of tragedy. She quickly cut off contact with Man in Moon and became a dark figure in history of spirits. Very little else is known about her."

There was a silence over the room, nervous glances traded as I frowned at the book, huffing and thinking of that black-haired punk with the big mouth. She was an ancient spirit, older than me? Older than North? It seemed impossible, with her naivety and head-strong traits that I remembered in Jack in his earlier years, with a heap load more darkness and danger to her...

But then I thought about that power she'd unleashed like it was nothing, the goosebumps it sent prickling up under my fur. It was massive, it was almost beyond words, and she'd sent it out without a care in the world, as if that were only a fraction of it...and it probably was. All the tragedy in the world? That was a bloody lot, and for one spirit to be able to handle like that...

"Ya see? North was right!"I concluded out loud, all eyes turning to me as I explained, pointing to the book for emphasis, "She is dangerous! You all saw what she did to those creatures, what's stoppin' her from doin' that to us? I say we keep our problems low and just try an' figure out whatever the bloody hell those creature things were, and deal with her when that threat arises."

North straightened up and scratched his beard thoughtfully, eyebrows still furrowed and a troubled look on his face.

"Yes, I see the point...but something does not multiply."

"...Add up?"

"Yes, Jack, es exactly what I said!"

I stood up, silencing the two as I placed the egg and brush carefully back in the sling, tired and a bit too perturbed after seeing those creatures in the black mass that close to Pitch Black.

"Listen ya gumbies, we're not gettin' anywhere right now just sittin' and talkin' about some messed-up spirit with Manny-issues. Whatever that was wasn't some joke, it looked like bad news to me, and we gotta tackle that before anythin' else."I insisted, and Tooth nodded ferverently, a serious look on her face.

"I agree with Bunny."

"But how do we do anything about dark scary things? We know nothing about them other than Astrid and Pitch make formidable duo against them!"North insisted, and I caught something golden out of the corner of my eye. I turned seeing Sandy trying desperately to get our attention.

"Oi, Sandy, what's up mate?"I asked curiously, all eyes turning to him as he flashed a series of images across his head too fast for anyone but North to read. And when he did, he brightened immediately, clapping two hands together with a glint in his eyes.

"Ah, Sandy, wonderful idea!"

"What'd he say?"Jack asked, just tearing his eyes away from the book as he looked curiously up at North with the rest of us.

"Sandy says that he has sent special dreamsand out that will alert us if any creepy-crawlies return, and that in mean time we should stay close, in case Sandy must contact us and we all must go out together to fight and analyze new threat!"North exclaimed, and I frowned, a bad feeling settling in my gut, having a feeling that I knew where this was headed.

Tooth squealed and clapped her hands together, exclaiming,

"You mean we all get to stay together? Like one big sleep-over!" My ears dropped and I scowled, opening my mouth to contradict them when Jack spoke up, seeming to snap out of whatever funk he'd been in and saying,

"I think Bunny and I should share bunk-beds!"

"Like bloody hell we are!"I exclaimed, seeing his impish little grin that I'd like to whop right off his face. Sandy made a few images that I was able to translate as 'this is gonna be great! All of us in one place together, bonding time!'. My heart dropped in my chest as I realized that these guys were actually serious, that North honestly wanted me to leave the Warren with Pitch out and about again just because some shadows gave them the spooks!

"Oi, hold on, I'm not leavin' my Warren-"

"Oh Bunny, lighten up! Easter is not for many more months-"

"Four!"

"-And will be like Sandy said, bonding time! Also allows us to get head-up on threat, isn't that what you were just saying?"North asked sneakily, and I opened my mouth to contradict, but nothing came out, the words lost on me. Damnit, I really _had _said that, hadn't I? I grit my teeth together, trying to come up with some excuse not to leave the Warren with so much to still do as the others made their minds up.

"I'll go get rooms ready! I made one for each of you, just in cases like this! Tooth, come, you and faeries can help!"North exclaimed, him and Tooth exiting and chattering excitedly, Sandy yawning and following close behind, presumably to get some sleep in. I groaned, rolling my eyes. The gumbies I was friends with.

I started walking to the door when I remembered that there was another person who hadn't left yet, turning and frowning curiously as Jack looked at the book again, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Since when are you so keen on readin' Frostbite?"I quipped, and he seemed to jump, as if forgetting I was there. He quickly turned and looked at me, recovering that annoying, fun-loving look in his eye as he quipped right back,

"Just wondering where I can find the article about the big, bad Easter Bunny." I scoffed and smirked at him as he floated towards me on a cold breeze, saying as I slapped his back and sent him out of the room,

"My article? You should read yours!"

We left the room, and I spent the next few hours until night time pacing around the Workshop, trying not to think about that time that I'd met a very unique spirit who seemed to know my name, insisting that I remember who she was when I couldn't for the life of me recall ever meeting anyone like her. The incident had floated to the back of my mind, but now, seeing her again and now actually knowing a basic understanding of who she was...something pulled at me. Whether it was a cautious instinct or something else, I couldn't tell, and didn't want to. I had bigger problems than some spirit girl, even if she was the first, even if she was a tad bit interesting. She was on Pitch's side. What more did I need to know?...

_~Astrid~_

_"Big brother?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"What'll happen if we're separated for a__loooong, long time. I mean like__reeeally__long, years and years?"_

_"Why would you ask a question like that,__Ast?"_

_"I'm just curious."_

_"Haha, well I'd look for you, wouldn't I?"_

_"But what if you couldn't find me, would you find another little sister?"_

_"Oh Astrid, c'mere. Listen, I'd never, not in a million years, ever find another little sister. You're my only one, and that's pretty good for me."_

_"...Promise you'll never forget about me?"_

_"I promise."_

_Darkness... _

_"Who are ya, anyway?"_

_"...Aster..."_

_"How__da__ya know my name, sheila? Who are ya! C'mon, I don't got time fer games right now!"_

_A darkness,__impenetrable, nothing like how Pitch used to make to scare me._

_"B-but...big brother!"_

_"He doesn't remember you, now come here, Astrid, there's something-"_

_"Big Brother!"_

_"Astrid, darling, I need you to wake up."_

I gasped, eyes flying open as a hand gripped mine softly, a thumb running on the soft underside of my wrist in a calming, soothing motion. I sucked air into my lungs, gulping it down like water to a drowning man, trembling as a voice continued to speak in a cooing, calming rhythm.

"It's alright, you're awake now." I breathed in one more time, saying breathlessly, starring at the wooden ceiling above me with child doodles all over it.

"How is that supposed to make it alright?"

"I'm here." I had a sarcastic retort to that, but it was lost in the dryness of my throat, instead deciding to push myself up, the hand over mine retracting as I shoved myself against the wall of the treehouse, moonlight filtering in through a small window and landing at my feet. I looked into my hands and tried to stop trembling, tried to rip the nightmare from my memory, knowing what brought it on, knowing that it could have been much worse and that I was damn lucky it was as mild as it had been.

I stayed like that for so long that the hand returned, tracing one soothing line down my spine. These were touches that didn't need explanations or words, didn't require an awkward apology or thanks. At first I'd flinched away from them like I did all touches, warning him what risk he ran when he did touch me, the kind of thing I could accidentally inflict upon him.

But he didn't truthfully seem to care. Pitch had already re-lived some of his worse tragedies. And yet, surprisingly, I'd never accidentally made him re-live another like I had the first few times others had touched me, as if he were immune to it. Not that I was complaining, and not that I'd ever admit it, because these soothing touches actually did a lot to bring me down to Earth, reminding me that I was, in this moment at least, alright.

"...Those creatures, there was something about them."Pitch mused, and it took me a moment to remember what he was talking about. I nodded, face still in my hands as I said, focusing on the hand that ran softly and slowly down my spine,

"They had a smell of tragedy to them, but it was...I don't know, polluted. Like they had something covering it, too."

"Hm, yes. But I was speaking of the Guardians. Quite a lovely group, aren't they?"

"Oh, rack off."I muttered, feeling a bit lighter. I bit back the words after they'd already been spoken, and Pitch felt me tense, knowing those words just sounded too familiar, brought out too much of an accent that had long-since faded. He sighed and leaned back, hand stopping on my upper-back and fingers thrumming thoughtfully, creating a rhythm to focus on.

"But that Jack Frost, still ever the curious child, isn't he?"Pitch asked, and I nodded, still trying to remember where I'd seen him before, because his name sounded too familiar to forget, just something unique about him ringing a bell.

"Why don't you two go frolic through daisies together, hm?"I asked, and smiled a bit when I heard Pitch exhale a small laugh, trying to cover it up with a sigh. A few more moments passed before I looked up, chin resting on my forearm as I looked out the window into the night sky, seeing the moon starring directly at me. And I frowned, wondering if he really was planning something, like Pitch had said. Because, of course, I needed more to add to my plate of things to place on my mind, as if life weren't already complicated enough.

"You should go back to sleep."Pitch mused, and I looked over at him, his fingers still thrumming on my back. He was looking apathetically at the wall, thinking about whatever it was that he thought about.

"You sure?"I asked, and he shrugged as if he truly didn't care.

"I have nothing better to do."He mused in a way that ended the conversation comfortably. And maybe that was the real reason that I did like Pitch's company. Maybe that was the reason that this whole confusing, messed-up thing worked. Not just that we'd been through it since the beginning. Not just because Manny had done us both wrong. Not just because we were two messed-up souls in a world of ignorance.

Because everything was comfortable. And even the most infamous spirits needed comfort every now and again. I fell asleep again that night, without any nightmares or dreams, just drifting peacefully into unconsciousness, feeling a constant rhythm being tapped out on my back.


	4. I Want To Hate You

_-Just to get it out of the way now, the story will very loosely refer back to the events of the 'Guardians of Childhood' books, but not all of the facts will be entirely accurate to them. Also, this chapter is a bit long simply because it contains sassy, mysterious Pitch, and A LOT of Jack Frost Negotiator. That being said, enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

The kid wouldn't stop crying, bawling loudly and hideously between snorts and strangled breaths. His face was patchy red and wet with tears and snot, a combination that ended up on the sleeve of his black sweatshirt when they'd overflowed to an obnoxious point. Those around him weren't exactly sure what to do about it, the firemen either standing awkwardly around or talking to the police officers who had managed to contain the mayhem of the entire family and fit the balding, red-faced, beer-soaked uncle into the backseat of the patrol car.

The parents of the child were busy filling out papers and fuming, and the only other adults were driving away in an ASPCA ambulance. The lights weren't on. They weren't in any rush. The kid was left alone, sitting on the sidewalk in the crisp afternoon hours just bawling and sniffling, face scrunched up and inaudible little shivers running down his body, ignored in the frenzy of horror and activity. I wasn't usually one to comfort someone, not wanting to seem too cruel or hypocritical, and it wasn't like I could be of any use anyway, but this kid was just too pathetically alone to walk away from.

My hand ghosted an inch over his back in a rubbing motion that I'd picked up from Pitch, something that only the most awkward people who don't actually know how to comfort people use. We'd both been raised an guided by violence and an extreme introverted life style, hardly even ever speaking to others let along trying to comfort them when their misery was kind of our job.

But, contrary to popular belief, I wasn't completely soulless.

"Hey kiddo,"I muttered, knowing he couldn't hear me but doing my best anyways as he cried like only a teenage boy could, "Listen, I get it. This sucks. But...hey, worse things could happen to you, ya know? I couldn't have had him do it in front of you, or I could have made it painful, or even worse...I could have not done it at all. And then where would you be? You'd keep drifting farther and farther away from that movement you wanted to make against animal cruelty or something, and then what? Then where would you be?"

He continued crying obliviously, and I sighed, moving and sitting next to him, moving a hand to hover over his knee, watching as he bawled into his hands. Damn dog was the kid's best friend in the entire world, and I took that from him. And, if I had a conscience, maybe I would have felt bad...but probably not. It wasn't that I was some horrible, terrible person who took joy from seeing other people's pain and suffering. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

I gave people just enough tragedy in their lives to break them, but not so much that they couldn't put themselves back together. It was a kick in the ass that actually motivated them to _do _something, or become stronger, or both. It wasn't a lot, no. Just enough, a measured amount, but people and spirits didn't exactly like to see it that way. They didn't _want _to believe that the shit they went through was good, that it was given to them with a purpose to keep them moving on, that it happened because they'd gotten lazy or content.

Which, I guess, was where most of my problems began. Tragedy was to be avoided at all costs. Wasn't that why I was created? Wasn't that what 'he' wanted me to do? Except for the fact that 'he' had no freaking clue what he was doing. A world without struggle, without tragedy? In the few years I'd seen it, in the few years I'd actually followed my calling because I didn't know what else to do, a world without tragedy was possibly the most pathetic, useless thing that could ever happen.

And call me crazy for actually having hope in the future of the world, even if it meant having to do _this _to people.

"Hey, just think, you're gonna make a lot of little puppies happy in the future."I mused, air-patting his knee as I stood up and stretched, looking around as the trucks slowly began pulling away and the kid managed to reduce his shameless bawling to just sniffling and hiccuping. I kicked up some smoke half-heartedly with my foot before deciding to walk, twirling a finger and having it all accumulate upwards, becoming a butterfly about halfway up and landing on the back of my hand.

I sighed as I looked at it, shaking my head and muttering,

"Really? I couldn't have gotten anything cooler?" It fluttered up lovingly and brushed my face, me rolling my eyes and flicking it over my shoulder, sending it trailing the firetruck that just rolled away. "Find some way to give that bastard some empathy for kids, huh?"I ordered after it, wondering if I shouldn't take some hypocritical oath.

I turned away from the chaos and began walking down the street, hands in my jacket pockets and not feeling up to flying right now, wanting something to clear my mind. I reached up and jumped onto a streetlight, spinning absent-mindedly around it and then jumping down again, mind beginning to wander as the sounds drifted away from me.

I didn't think about anything solid, just small little thoughts drifting in and out of my head, wondering about how certain people were coping with tragedies I'd given them, thinking about those creepy creatures Pitch and I had fought yesterday and wondering if they weren't just some freak occurrence, possibly some rogue fearlings that shifted into something else without Pitch knowing. I wasn't too worried about them, not with how soundly we'd defeated them yesterday night.

I thought about the Guardians, how that Tooth Fairy was oddly quiet and Nicholas St. North very innocently happy and naive. Thought about how that Sandman was just a bit too trigger happy around Pitch, and wondering if I'd ever met him, him being the first spirit created after Pitch and me. Thought about Jack Frost and how something about him was distinctly familiar and different from the others, hoping he kinda stayed that way. Thought about Aster, and how he hadn't changed a bit...

"Streetlight."

"What the- Oof!" I exclaimed, just as I walked face-first into an inconveniently placed streetlight. I stumbled back a few steps and rubbed my face with my hand, letting out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush as I looked up, glaring daggers at the apathetically-looking Pitch, who leaned against the light post with his arms crossed.

"I tried to warn you."

"And one time I tried to kill you. Kinda wish I hadn't backed out."I muttered back, shaking my head and trying to get feeling back in my nose while I picked up what was left of my pride.

"I was too charming for you to kill me. Still am. Now, I wander what could have made the ever-vigilant Astrid so preoccupied?"He mused, me noticing that the streetlight I'd run into had a light bulb blown out, casting him in partial shadow while the rest of the daylight seemed to inch away from him. Golden-silver eyes looked at me questioningly, one brow raising and I brushed him off with a wave of my hand, walking around him.

"What are you doing here? You don't normally drop-in this often unless there's something you need."I mused skeptically, wishing I could say that I didn't enjoy him being here this often, but also knowing that lying to myself wouldn't really get me anywhere. For some reason I seemed to be more stressed than usual, something digging at the back of my mind and pulling at my nerves in a way that even Manny couldn't do...sometimes. And while having Pitch around wasn't exactly butterflies and daisies, I had to hand it to the Boogeyman. He was a good constant companion.

He walked beside me silently for a few moments, the streetlights above him all giving loud and sudden pops as he walked under them, not answering my question.

"Overly-dramatic much?"I asked, and he shrugged, looking off in front of us as we fell into another comfortable silence. After awhile of just walking, the snow around us falling lazily and coating the ground with a transparent layer of snowflakes, I finally looked up at him curiously, honest confusion filling my mind as I realized that never, without a recurring span of nightmares, had Pitch _ever _visited this often.

He continued to ignore me, disregarding my stare as I huffed, wondering how I'd dealt with him for this long. I looked forward again, wondering if I'd have known, in the beginning of all of this, that Pitch would end up being this mysterious and infuriating. Back then, I was dealing with so many of my own issues and existential crisis that I'd thought Pitch only dropped by because of my fear. And back then, I manufactured fear like the sun did light.

But could you blame me? I was a kid, suddenly and harshly all alone in the world with no say what-so-ever, barely knowing exactly how I was supposed to do what I was meant to do, and not exactly sure that I liked the man that was supposed to be making this world a better place. Back then, I hadn't given myself enough time to think about it, think about what he had done to me, think about how he took me from my family without my say, made me a tool without thinking, and that I could possibly rebel against a being so 'strong'.

Probably back then I never would have thought that Pitch would continuously visit me at all, let alone become something of a relatable consistency in my eternal damnation. I didn't _want _to relate to him back then. Back then, he was the Boogeyman, the man who had created all that tragedy that I had to remove, a dark figure that scared kids at night and sent fearlings out to do his bidding. At least, that's what Manny had told me.

He conveniently left out the part about Pitch not having been this way his whole life. Left out the part about how a little bit of fear and tragedy were necessary. Left out the part where, in a way, Pitch was a tool to solidify 'his' power. After all, what's a king without a villain to unite his soldiers against? And it only took Pitch trying to recruit me, me saying no, him actually _allowing _me to say no, one massive heart-to-heart after my first dreadful realization, and the strangest bond to ever exist in the history of time to get me to see any of 'his' real plan.

But even after billions of years of being around Pitch, sometimes he still managed to confuse me. Like now.

"Alright, if you aren't going to answer me, I've got some lives to twist up, some hearts to break, so you mind if I just-"

I stopped mid-step, body tensing up a bit as I pivoted to the side, tilting my face upwards as every sense in my entire body went hay-wire, the temperature in the air suddenly dropping.

"What is it?"Pitch asked with a suppressed hint of concern in his voice, me brushing him off like he had me, eyes flickering to the top of the house before me. I sniffed one more time, just to be sure I was right, smelling a mottled and polluted scent of tragedy that was too familiar to miss. Without a word, I kicked up some smoke and jumped on, shooting up into the sky and over the tops of three houses, knowing Pitch would follow soon enough.

I quickly jumped off the smoke and landed on a rooftop, balancing in a crouched position on the pointed tip of the roof, looking over and into a small clearing across the sidewalk, a line of trees forming a perfect circle that was hidden from the rest of the neighborhood. The clearing had a thick layer of snow marked no footsteps, but with a small figure in the middle who, upon close inspection, turned out to be the same familiar frost spirit as last night.

Jack stood there, and for a moment I got excited, actually considering going down and talking to him, until I saw the look on his face. Petrified. He was taking a few steps back, holding his staff out in front of him in a warning motion, eyes wide and darting to and fro. The smell of mottled tragedy suddenly grew stronger, and I looked over to see exactly what was scaring the poor thing.

From out of the darkness of the trees, something shifted, moving in the darkness like it was cloaked in it. Two more things moved opposite it, and it didn't take a long time for me to realize what they were. A flash of hot-red eyes and a quiet, quick shriek brought back memories of the entire army of them I'd fought just last night. Now, there were only three of them.

"I trust you can take care of this on your own?"I heard behind me in a disapproving, tired tone.

"What, too scared? Getting weary in your old age?"I asked, and I could almost hear the rolling of his eyes.

"Me and that frost spirit had a bit of a bad reputation with the other, and I'm quite content to go through today with only your insults and petty arguments disturbing my peace."He mused, and I stood up, waving a hand out in front of me and creating a thin layer of smoke before me.

"Hey, you're the one who showed up out of the blue."I muttered, but I knew that he'd already left. I took a moment to look back, brow furrowed in confusion. That was actually very unlike Pitch, to show up and say nothing, and then just leave. Normally he would at least ask me to help him take over the world, or something else little like that.

But it was easy to shrug off, knowing Pitch didn't exactly care to explain things outright. He was a very subtle person, only speaking reasons if it was absolutely necessary. For instance, with him being there every time I had a nightmare, sitting there to comfort me. He never gave a reason for it, but I knew it was his way of saying that he was there, that he understood, and that I didn't have to do this alone. Coming from a guy like Pitch, it actually meant something. No one else in the world had the understanding we had between each other, and so I tended not to question things like this.

I turned my focus back to Jack, seeing the little creatures beginning to crawl on all gangly fours from the shadows, the boy stepping back and saying something I couldn't catch.

"Let's give him some help, guys."I said with a smirk, and in response the half-butterfly-half-smoke beneath me sped instantly forward, making a beeline for the clearing. Before I even landed I threw my hand out to the side, sending a torpedo of smoke right into the open, sharp-toothed maw of the creature farthest to Jack's left. It let out a shriek that was choked off before it was even dead, me landing and spinning out a foot in a semi-circle motion, kicking up a new wave of smoke that finished off the one in the middle and quickly chased after the third, who had begun to fled.

I watched in amusement with my hands on my hips, seeing the smoke catch up to the thing and play around with it for a few moments before diving straight in and wrapping around it, acting like acid to paper as the creature shrieked and shriveled, trembling before breaking off into tiny black particles and dissipating into the air. I raised a hand and laughed a bit, the smoke shooting back and twirling around my wrist, fluttering to life and resting on my sleeve.

"Nice work, but try not to play with your food next time."I mused toyingly, and it took off into the air, fluttering somewhere above me in a playful manner. I shook my head and chuckled, placing my hands in my pockets and turning a bit, looking over to where Jack was slowly recovering, looking from the spot that the creatures were in to me, eyes wide and hands still gripping the shepard's crook with a severe force.

"Hey now, don't have a heart-attack on me kiddo. Guardians already don't like me too much, wouldn't want to give them an actual reason."I mused jokingly, turning fully and walking up to him. He seemed a bit surprised at first, but not in a scared kind of way. In a way where he was surprised that I was even standing there in the first place, as if surprised I could actually see him...

Something in the back of my mind clicked. My eyes narrowed and I took another quick step towards him before he could do anything, reaching out and grabbing his face in one hand, his eyes flying wide open and stiffening, frost shooting out from the end of his staff and coloring the ground a white-blue below us. I didn't pay any attention to the obvious personal-space-bubble I was popping, not really having any practice in what was socially acceptable anyway, and looked closely at his face, suddenly something in the back of my mind beginning to wind up, the gears grinding as I slowly began to remember where I'd seen this kid before, and why I couldn't remember him before.

And when it hit me, my eyes widened, eyebrows raised in surprise. An image played back in my mind, surprised that I even remembered this, surprised even more at what it ended up leading to.

"Hm. Different eyes, different hair, a hell of a lot paler, but I definitely remember you."I muttered, nodding and giving a light-hearted look, patting the side of his face after I released it and resting my arm on his shoulder, which was slightly less tense as his other hand finally released the staff and came up to massage his jaw, wincing a bit as he asked in a confused and surprised tone,

"Remember me?" I nodded, tilting my head to the side to make sure, but definitely remembering his face. It had been somewhere over two-hundred, maybe even three-hundred years ago that I'd last seen the kid, and the tragedy wasn't even that unique for the time period he was in, nor had I thought about it much afterwards, but something about it, something about _him_, make me remember distinctly. And then I realized that maybe it was that he still kinda carried it around with him, that tragedy. That's why he still had the smell lingering on him.

"Oh yeah, it was...three-hundred years ago? You're that Overland kid! Drowned in a lake trying to save your little sister, right?"I mused, missing the look of shock on his face, missing how he tensed at the words, lost in my own little world as I thought out-loud, "Gotta say, thought I was helping your sister out or something with it, that's what I normally do. I mean, there really isn't anything to help the dead person with, ya know?"

I moved my arm that still rested on his shoulder and turned his face a bit, frowning and muttering,

"But if I knew Manny was gonna use you to hang with his lap dogs, I might not have done it. Worked well for you sister, though. She grew up and took up your role in taking care of the kids in your village. Dropped in on her once or twice, looked pretty...hey, are you alright?" I suddenly stopped, finally turning his head back and seeing the look on his face, something tight squeezing in my chest.

The kid looked stiff and horrified, jaw clenched and eyes wide, his breathing shallow as I noticed frost beginning to creep up my hand where I was touching his face. And suddenly, I reeled back, taking two quick steps backwards and shaking my hand out in the air, words spilling from my mouth as I quickly realized what I'd done.

"Oh shit, sorry Jack, I just...I didn't..."I stopped talking, not exactly sure what to say as I cursed myself inwardly, feeling awkward as a sense of guilt began to rise in my gut, seeing the kid as he blinked a few times and took a gulp of air, running a hand through his hair as I shook my head, looking out at the trees. I wasn't made for this. I wasn't built to understand the feelings of others. Not now, anyway. If there ever had been a time where I could, and I knew there had been, it was another lifetime away.

Now, I was an awkward spirit missing that little bit of empathy that told me when to stop talking about someone's death as if it were something I'd read in the paper this morning.

"It can't be easy, talking about it, I get that. I mean, it was your _death_ after all. It all just kinda seems so normal to me that sometimes I forget that, to others, it isn't exactly a comfortable subject to breach. I mean, it's my job, so this kinda stuff happens every day...wait, no, I didn't mean it like...oh shit."I cursed myself, running a stressed hand through my hair and shaking my head, telling myself to shut up, that I was seriously making what was supposed to be a harmless little endeavour into a situation where I wanted to burrow into the ground and disappear forever.

Jack was still silent while I freaked out, just standing there while I looked away from him, into the treeline to my left. _'Great, now _he _thinks I'm crazy, too.'_

"...I get it. Took me some time to learn how to act around people at first, too." I turned, surprised as I saw Jack slowly recovering from the damage I'd done, relaxing a bit more now and tracing his staff across the snow, making small little frost decorations in it as he did, face still a bit strained but managing a lopsided smirk and a shrug. I paused for a moment, wondering if he actually said what I thought he said. Wondering if this kid actually _was _the kind of different I'd been hoping he was.

"What do you mean 'at first'?"I asked curiously, measuring my words and hoping I wasn't about to screw up again. But this time he didn't react in horror and fear, instead kicking up some snow with his staff and waving his hand towards it, the snow accumulating into a perfect snowball, flying towards his hand. He threw it up and down a few times, this seemingly calming him down further as he said in a light-hearted tone,

"Until we defeated Pitch, 'Jack Frost' was still just some saying about catching a cold. Being invisible for 300 years can seriously damage someone's people-skills." Maybe it was the nonchalant, self-depreciating way he said it, or maybe it was because of _what _he had said, or possibly it was because he was already proving to be the different kind of person I'd hoped he would be, but something made me like the kid. And that was kind of a big deal, considering I didn't like _anyone._

"Ha, please! 300 years? Try 3.4 _billion, _and then try engaging in small-talk."I shot back, hands on my hips as Jack's eyes grew wide again.

"Billion?! But I thought you were, like, the first spirit Manny ever created. With all that time on your hands, you never even found a way to get even a few people to see you?"He asked, and I rolled my eyes, a smirk quirking up at what he'd said.

"So, you guys did a little research, huh?"I asked, and Jack suddenly realized what he'd said, mouth clamping shut and face ghosting blue, which I assumed was his form of a blush. And it was the most adorable thing I'd ever seen. I laughed, shaking my head and reassuring him, "Don't worry, I'm flattered, really. But 'created' isn't exactly the right word. I existed before _he _decided my life was too boring and wanted to jazz it up a bit." Jack opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but I pushed on before he could. I liked the kid, but it took 40 years before Pitch and I had our little heart-to-heart, and I wasn't having a crisis at the moment.

"And on terms of staying invisible, who said I _wanted _people to see me? Kids wouldn't exactly react well to seeing the Spirit of Tragedy waltzing down their street."I explained, and Jack leaned on his staff, tossing the snowball higher and higher in the air.

"What about other spirits?"He asked, and I gave him a sarcastic look.

"Really? Look how well the Guardians of freaking Children reacted to me. I'm not like some VIP, even though I trump most of these spirits' ages by centuries."I retorted, and Jack raised his eyebrows in innocence, and in one terrible moment I was afraid that he'd say something, do something to prove me wrong. And that would be just my luck, exactly what I deserved for thinking that maybe, possibly, there was someone else out there who may understand even a fraction of what I was going through other than Pitch.

After all, I remembered Pitch mentioning this kid before, remembered him saying that he might be like us, that he might understand. Back then I'd brushed him off, but now, actually _talking _to the kid... I didn't want to say it, didn't want to accept it, being overly-cautious just in case he turned out to be just like all of the others, but looking at the kid, thinking of what he'd said... 300 years of being alone. That meant MiM didn't speak to him once, something he liked doing to new spirits. That he'd been confused and stranded, that most spirits probably didn't treat him the best, what with him being just a kid and all, labeling him, being _alone_...

Some desperate part of me wanted it to be true. Pitch was one thing, but after billions of years of being an unapproachable introvert that most spirits avoided like the plague and had the reputation of a serial killer... I'd like to think I was strong and tough enough to not get my hopes up, but maybe that's what was happening now. After all, I'd never met another spirit quite like Jack, not being taken from the Earth by MiM, but by me, and have him not hold a grudge but actually a_gree _and relate to me..

"It kinda bites, doesn't it? When other spirits hate you for absolutely nothing but just being yourself."

This kid is gonna kill me.

I looked at him and didn't even have the mental capacity left to hide my shock and awe, jaw dropping open and something mixing in my chest, something both feather light and heavy at the same time. He did not just...did he just say...what I think he said? He saw me looking and caught the snowball, raising and eyebrow and asking timidly,

"What?" I shook my head, closing my eyes and thinking to myself, _'Damnit...I hate when Pitch is right.'_ Because he was. He absolutely, 100%, was right. And maybe this kid didn't realize the magnitude of what he just said, maybe he didn't understand exactly what it was that he was saying, but he had _said it._ What I'd been waiting for someone else to understand for the longest time. And I wondered, for a moment, if MiM knew he'd made the same mistake twice.

And suddenly, I wanted to know a hell of a lot more about this kid. What exactly had he gone through to end up being a Guardian? Did he then realize that having Pitch as an enemy was kind of redundant?...Or maybe he just didn't like Pitch because of what he'd tried to do. And suddenly, a thousand and one questions burst into my mind, and I had to forcefully shake myself inwardly to get them to stop.

I was jumping the gun a bit here. Yeah, this was great, the kid understood, but the real issue was that he was part of the Guardians. Would they even let a kid like him hang out with a spirit like me? Doubtful. But still, I couldn't fight down that light, happy feeling in my chest, only fighting against it because it was so new, so foreign.

I allowed myself a little smirk and said, shaking my head in disbelief,

"Guess all 'his' kids don't turn out ignorant." And in the kid's favor, he didn't act nearly as confused as he probably felt.

"Not all of us are as hard-headed as Bunny."He joked, and I even had to hold back a bout of laughter at that. Aw c'mon, the kid could make me laugh at how ignorant Aster was? What was he, some kind of ray of light? And I reeeally, reeeeally wanted to fight it down, but some part of me was actually considering...hanging out around this kid. Maybe, and just maybe, being something I'd sworn I'd never want to be with anyone. Friends. Then again, I never thought I'd meet someone like him.

He just seemed so innocent about it, so light-hearted and satirical. He was like an approachable, not-terrifying version of myself.

"By the way, how do you fight those things? All you use is a little smoke and those...um...butterflies?" Jack instantly changed the subject, looking upwards at the butterfly that still fluttered lazily in the sky. I raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged.

"That smoke up there? It can do a hell of a lot more than just look pretty and give people a little bit of tragedy to help them move along in life. You read up on me, right? Then you know that I kinda possess all the tragedy in the world. That's powerful stuff."I explained, reaching a hand up, the butterfly instantly flying downwards and landing on the tip of my middle finger before dissipating back into its smokey state, coiling around my hand a few times before dipping back into my jacket, disappearing.

"...But seriously, _butterflies?_" Jack asked, and I laughed, kicking up some snow at him, him not even flinching. "Really? Gonna throw snow at Jack Frost? That's like me trying to fight those creatures with snowballs and frost." He quipped, and I stopped, frowning thoughtfully.

"You seriously can't fight them? C'mon, you even try yet?"I asked, not believing that the 'all-mighty' Guardians couldn't take on a few creepy crawlies. Jack shook his head quickly and looked at his feet, something dark and troubled crossing his face as, for a moment, I feared I'd done something wrong again.

"I can't even _focus _when they're around."

"Why? They get you that riled up?"I joked light-heartedly, but Jack looked up at me with an expression that was a mix of shock and wonder. I raised an eyebrow, shoving my hands back into the pockets of my hoodie.

"You don't feel...ya know..._afraid?_ Or that suffocating darkness those things let off whenever you get near them? Seriously, it's worse than being in Pitch's creepy cave-place, or...ya know..."He trailed off, and I finished for him, merely out of curiosity and confusion,

"Drowning?" He flinched a bit, and I quickly recovered, mind swimming. "No, not really. I mean, I can smell something when they're close to me, kinda like a stifled tragic smell, but other than that they're kinda like punching bags...you seriously feel that around them?"I asked, cocking my head to the side as I thought about the fear in Jack's face when I'd swooped in to save the day. Terror. And this was the kid who managed to bring Pitch down a notch.

If what he said was true...then maybe I was getting a bit more interested in what these things were. I thought of the mottled, tragic smell, the oddness of how they looked, and how I wasn't affected by them at all, but if Jack was...

"Yeah, the others do, too. We've been trying to find some, Sandy sending out his dream sand and all, to try and maybe fight them, or at least figure out what they are."He explained, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh, one that surprised the little frost spirit. I waved him off and said in the kindest way possible,

"That's a shit idea if I've ever heard one." Jack raised his eyebrows and asked, leaning on the staff more and continuing to toss the snowball up and down,

"You have a better one? Honestly, not being sarcastic or anything, cuz those things give me the creeps and the faster I can get them away from kids the better." I shrugged, reaching back and scratching my neck as I said, without thinking of the repercussions,

"If you guys can't even get near them without feeling that 'fear' or whatever, you're gonna need someone who can actually _fight _them, not to mention get close enough to maybe, _maybe _see what they are."

"Like you?"

I paused, mouth open and half-way through agreeing with him, when I realized exactly what I'd be agreeing to. And, just as suddenly as he'd asked with a half-joking, half-serious face, I snapped my jaw shut and gulped, cursing myself inwardly to the point of ridiculousness, eyes wide and wishing that I'd learned to think before I spoke. It was this damn kid! I'd let my guard down for twenty, thirty seconds, and now what did I do? Give him some idea of me...no. I shuddered at the thought.

I waved my hands in front of me and said, shaking my head quickly,

"Oh no no no, I'm not in the business of helping others, Snowflake. As in, I kinda _hate _others."

"You don't hate me." Oh god dammit. This kid was too damn good, and I mean really good. He said it all as if it were fact. Which, unfortunately, it was. He even went so far as to give me a knowing, lopsided smirk, crossing his ankles smoothly and raising his eyebrows, eyes wide and innocent.

"Don't give me that look! Listen, yeah, I like you. You're pretty chill, pun not intended, but the others? MiM and I aren't exactly on good terms, so why would I wanna help his little toy soldiers out, huh? When I can just do it by myself if I wanted to?" I defended, already wanting a way out of this because, very seriously, this was _bad__._As in, I'd just met the only other spirit other than Pitch who actually understood what it was like to be hated without proper reason, and I couldn't completely trust myself to...well...no. No, I didn't even want to think about it.

But Jack was having none of that. He threw the snowball and balanced it on one finger, twirling it as he pressed on like this was his job,

"Hey, Manny isn't the one who's telling you to do this. In fact, I don't think we're allowed to ally with people without his consent, and if we do this, isn't that going directly against his rules?" I paused, jaw tight and trying to throw out every excuse humanly possible, feeling a bit of smoke brushing up against my hands, wanting out before I did something I was seriously going to regret.

"The other Guardians. I hate them. They hate me."

"Them? You mean Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, and the Sandman? They don't hate _anyone. _They don't even hate _Pitch._ Maybe a bit disgruntled with him, but they don't hate him! It's not something they were programmed to do, ya know? Gotta take care of kids, can't have hate influencing anything."

"Aster."

"Bunny hates _everyone_. Hey! That's something you two have in common!"

"I have a bad history with him."

"For me? C'mon! I need someone like me around there, at least someone my age...well, genetically speaking."

"..." I clenched my fists and looked all around to my right and left, as if the answer or escape would be there. Because I did _not _want to be having this conversation now. In fact, I wished I hadn't even dropped down here, wished I'd have walked the other way, wished I'd never met this kid...wished I could stop lying to myself. Because dammit, I did like this kid. I could smell the tragedy, remember his death, knew how MiM was using the poor thing, knew how alone he'd been, knew how he was way too much like me to not gain a sympathy I thought was rotted and dead in the corner of my soul.

I just had to think about what MiM did to me. Had to think that, if I did what I was afraid I'd do, I'd have a constant reminder of what happened, have it standing there staring me right in the eye and calling me crazy. That I'd be helping MiM. That he didn't deserve a bit of it. That I'd be helping the Guardians...

"And besides, if you do help us, wont that just show all those people who ever assumed anything about you that you aren't actually a bad person just because of what your power is? You'd be helping people, and slowly they'd be able to see that that's what you were doing all along."Jack tried, and this time with a face too serious, too earnest. Oh no. No no no. NO. He was not making sense, I wouldn't let him. I couldn't I just...I just _couldn't..._

"Listen, I'm not forcing you. You don't have to, I'm just saying-"

"Oh shut up, Frostbite."I muttered, rubbing a hand down my face, eyes closed as I tried to sort through exactly what the hell was happening.

"..Um?.."

"Quiet."

"Astrid-"

"I'm trying to think!"

"..."

"I go and try to find Pitch, to see if he's OK, and then I meet you lot. And then I help you, and now..."I trailed off, because I didn't want to admit that the damn kid not only made a point, but also capitalized with that last sentence. _"You don't have to..."_ How many times had I wished that sentence had been said to me before? Before this whole thing happened? How many times had I wished someone, anyone, would have given me a choice? Asked me first?

...Jack was silent, waiting patiently as I fought my internal struggle with myself. If I did this, I'd helping MiM's lapdogs...but wouldn't I also be proving them wrong about me? That just because I hang out around Pitch and am the legitimate embodiment of tragedy, that doesn't mean I can't do something good? And I didn't even have to get attached to these people...and how rich would it be for the only spirit to ever go against MiM to be the one that he actually needed because his perfect little children couldn't do the job?

Oh god. Was I really considering this?...No. No I was not. I was _deciding _on this. Because I could...because this little runt gave me a choice.

"...The others gonna be as generous as you, Chilly?"I asked tiredly, knowing that if Pitch saw me right now-

"OF COURSE!" I screamed and jumped forward, tripping over myself before I could run into Jack and spinning around, grasping at my rapidly-beating heart and panting, seeing the entire gang standing behind me, with mixed looks of caution and glee. I dropped my jaw and exclaimed breathlessly,

"You ever _warn_ someone before you appear behind them and shout in their freaking ear?!" But North didn't seem apologetic about it at all, instead raising his hands and saying softer, blue eyes sparkling with some happiness that I couldn't find the reason for,

"We are overjoyed to have new member to aid us in fight against creepy-crawlies." His thick accent made everything slightly harder to understand, but I got the basic gist of it and narrowed my eyes. This was quite a dramatic change of opinion, and suddenly I wondered if this entire thing wasn't some trap. I looked back at Jack, the question in my eyes, but he held up his hands innocently and said,

"They showed up right when you told me to be quiet, I was just trying to tell you." I thought back to that look in his face and sighed, gritting my teeth together and looking back at Nicholas St. North. Next to him, the Tooth Fairy fluttered lightly, her wings moving more rapidly than a butterflies but with just as much strength and grace, her face a smile that wasn't exactly forced, but showed that she wasn't 100% on this idea. To his other side was the Sandman, who sat on his cloud and gave a sleepy smile, innocent and free of fear or blame.

"Why the sudden facechange, huh?"I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes and shoving my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, "Just last night you said I couldn't join you just 'cuz I associated with Pitch. What? Not scared of the Boogeyman anymore?" Without missing a beat, North raised a finger and said with a smile under his beard,

"Does not matter, I realized that. We came because Sandy felt creatures near our Jack, and if there are no longer any in sight, I assume you fought off as bravely as you did last night. You see, _we _cannot fight them with all our power, and I am not willing to take risk in favor of children. I do not even know what they do to people yet, and I don't want to find out. If you can help us, if you can fight off creatures or, better yet, help us understand, then I am seeing no reason in not letting you join our side."

I paused, looking straight at him and trying my damn hardest to find a lie somewhere in there, trying to find something that I could grab hold of and hold against him. Because no one, ever, had been that straight-forward with me. No one had been willing to give me a chance like that. And...it terrified me. Because I didn't want to like these guys. I wanted to hate them, and would do anything in my power to make sure that happened...but for now, I couldn't find a reason to. I looked at the Tooth Fairy and asked,

"You too? You willing to go against whatever rules MiM has for you guys just cuz a bunch of ugly-ass creatures got you all shook up?" With someone as delicate as this woman looked, I expected her to falter, at least. Instead, she did something worse. She smiled and shrugged.

"It's for the children. That's our purpose, isn't it? Put the children first, no matter what." Her voice was delicate and kind, without even a hint of worry.

I looked over at the Sandman.

"...Do you even talk?" He shook his head.

"Excellent! Then let us get with the room arrangements, no? Yes!"North suddenly exclaimed, and my eyes flew wide open.

"Room arrangements?...Woah Woah Woah! NO WAY! Hold on a second you crazy Russian basta-HEY!" I exclaimed, not factoring this into my half-hearted acceptance that I hadn't even said yet, North pulling out what looked like a snow globe from his thick jacket and tossing it into the air next to him, some magic portal opening right out of nowhere. Before I could even finish my sentence, I was forcefully lifted off the ground by a massive, tattooed arm and unceremoniously carted through the blinding, rotating colors.

One second there were snowflakes and colors shifting and darting past at lightning-fast speeds, and then the next we were standing in the center of what was basically a gigantic balcony the portal closing as Jack flew through on a cold gust of wind, landing in front of North as he set me down. I immediately jumped away from all of them and shook, smoke suddenly and explosively shooting out all around me and, just as suddenly, dissipating.

I looked up, panting and glaring daggers at all of them, who looked slightly confused. As if throwing someone through a MAGIC PORTAL was completely normal!

"Hey! I said I'd help you guys...no, actually I _never _said that! I implied it! And the next thing you think is fine and dandy is to kidnap me, take me to wherever this is, and assume that I want to freaking _live here?!_"

"What?!"

I spun around, everyone freezing as I remembered one last member of their little group that hadn't been there when I'd saved Jack, presumably left out of the plan. Aster stood there, eyes open wide and a half-painted egg in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, looking a mix between shocked and furious. I threw up my hands and exclaimed,

"Great! Now I gotta deal with _this!_"

"The bloody hell is she talkin' 'bout? Why's she even here? We can't let people inta' the Pole just willy nilly!"Aster exclaimed, and North stepped forward, Jack and I exchanging looks. I gave him an exasperated, wide-eyed look, and he gave me a sympathetic shrug.

"I'm guess he was left out?"I whispered, and Jack nodded.

"Bunny can be a bit...hard to persuade."The Tooth Fairy whispered as North took Bunny aside, explaining some things to him. I caught one incredulous look before I turned away, leaning on the golden railing behind me. I closed my eyes and sighed, shaking my head.

"I really don't want to stay here."I said.

"We know, but it's for the best. If anything happens, we can all attack it instead of being fragmented and wasting time trying to contact each other. Also, it's safer."Tooth explained in a kind voice. And to most that's obvious, the Tooth Fairy having a sweet voice. But to me, who hadn't had anyone ever be nice to them ever, I looked up at her with suspicion. In fact, I was suspicious of all of them, and a massive part of me was saying that this may be my worst idea yet.

But the other part was too loud, too solid, too believing in Jack's words and my own reasonings. This would piss MiM off, no doubt...but was it worth it?

"Yer off yer damn rocker, ya ol' date! She ain't gonna help us soon as I sprout wings and fly!"Aster suddenly exclaimed as I hopped up on the railing and sat, huffing and saying,

"Now _that _would be funny." I felt his eyes on me, accusing, and I looked away. With all that was going on, I didn't need more piled up on it. I knew what I was doing. Knew what I was getting myself into. But I wasn't sure I knew exactly what I was in for.

"You're not seriously gonna help us, are ya? Whadda you an' Pitch got planned, huh? Gonna attack us in our sleep? Gonna send those things on us?" I rolled my eyes and continued just looking around, seeing some giant Russian drawing on the far wall, every inch of this place decorated in some sort of mixture between Russian and Elven writing and drawings, even the floor tiles in a decorative 'G' from where I was sitting.

"Please, you honestly think I'd lower myself to attacking you guys? What would that do for me, huh? And if Pitch and I actually controlled those freaks, why would we attack them..."I trailed off, a very, very, very dangerous idea forming in my head. And maybe it was that I'd made _a lot _of dangerous decisions lately, or maybe it was that this was a legitimately good idea and I needed someone to go through this with, but whichever it was, if I thought I was gonna piss MiM off before, then I was _definitely _gonna piss him off now.

"Speaking of which, I'm kinda a package deal, ya know?"I said, and it took a second for them to understand. Aster caught on first.

"Bloody hell we're gonna bring him here!"He snapped, and I looked at North instead of Aster, who had an equally unsure face.

"Listen, you want to defeat those things, right? Or at least get a hold on them? Then, while I am infinitely more powerful than all of you combined, I'm gonna need help, and the only other person who can fight these things is Pitch. Him or nothing."I explained, leaning forward and pressing my elbows to my knees, knowing Pitch was gonna rip my freaking head off for this.

But hey, I was the most immortal immortal out there. What's the worst he could do?

North rubbed his beard thoughtfully, brows furrowed and thinking. Aster looked at him incredulously, as if shocked he was even considering such a thing.

"You're not seriously gonna bring the bloody _Boogeyman _to the North Pole, are ya?! Have ye all gone bloody insane?!"He exclaimed, waving the brush around. To my surprise, it was Tooth who spoke up first.

"Well...everyone is here, so even if he did want to do something he couldn't...right?"She looked at me when she asked this, and I shrugged, deadpanning,

"The guy's strong, alright? That little number you did on him might have made this entirely safe eight months ago, maybe even five, but now he's almost back to where he was when he first fought you guys...but I know his ego, and he won't want his pride stepped on twice in one year. Besides, I'll keep him in line."

"Great, the Spirit of Tragedy's gonna keep the Boogeyman from taking over the world. Bloody brilliant."

"...Hey, I trust her." I looked over at Jack in surprise, just how easily he'd said that raising everyone's eyebrows. Before anyone could say anything else, North piled on.

"I agree! Es a risk I _am _willing to take! For the children, no? Yes! Astrid, lead way!"

"You gotta be bloody kidding me..."

Part of me was hoping they'd put up more of a fight. Part of me was hoping they'd say no. Part of me was hoping they'd realize how bad of an idea this was and let me leave. Part of me wanted them to be terrible, cruel, and angry. But they weren't, and that made it so much worse.

Because part of me really wanted to hate them.


	5. A Bit Of Persuasion

_-Thank you all for your wonderful comments! This chapter may be a bit boring to some, but I promise we'll get into the real interactions and juicy stuff later! Any ideas or concerns? Feel free to leave a review, I read and enjoy all of them. You guys are and always have been the best-_

_~Pitch Black~_

I shoved away the nightmare roughly as it nosed my ribs, snapping it with a warning glare as I turned back to the thick novel on the desk, searching for something through the dust-covered pages. Something to do with those little creatures that continuously popped up, not because I was particularly afraid, just curious and quite bored. With night far away in the neighborhood I knew she wouldn't travel far from, I had nothing to do but sit and wait to see if Astrid were going to have another nightmare tonight, wondering if this would develop into another epidemic.

She was long-past due for one, the last one being over two years ago. Usually these were an anual thing, these long-term bouts of fear, and it certainly wasn't because she was any less stressed than usual. I sighed, telling myself that that child's mind worked in ways that even _I _couldn't comprehend after billions of years. So, out of sheer nothing-to-do-ness, I decided to do some research and see if I couldn't find the source of those annoying little cretins. Astrid had seemed rather unsteady about them the other night, anyways.

I felt a bump on my shoulder, and I angrily smacked away the nightmare, snapping angrily,

"What on _Earth _has gotten into you?! Go frighten a Kinder gardener or something!" But the beast did not move, instead whinnying and clomping annoyingly on the stone floor, acting even more brutally infuriating than normal. I blamed Astrid. She was a terrible influence on them.

I turned to it, ready to snap at it again and send it back to the others, wanting some peace and quiet before doing exactly what I had been doing for the past eight months. Blissful and infuriating nothing.

"You know, if you were nicer to them maybe they'd listen to you." I paused, jaw caught between being clenched and dropping, just freezing in shock and a bit of annoyance.

Astrid stood there, petting the mane of the nightmare and holding out a hand, a small tornado of smoke appearing before solidifying into one of her butterflies. The nightmare rose up a bit in excitement, a trait I specifically told her _not _to teach them, and then began trotting around the room quickly, chasing the butterfly like it was a bloody dog. But, as angry as I was about that, I was slightly more infuriated with Astrid's presence. Not that she was any more intolerable than normal, it was just a matter of manners. Manners she clearly did not have.

"How the bloody hell did you get into my home?!"I demanded incredulously, her giving me that infuriatingly apathetic look and shrugging, hands in the pockets of her slightly-too-large hoodie, shaking black/blue bangs from her eyes, green staring back at me sarcastically.

"Oh, I just looked under all the _other _creepy abandoned beds in the middle of a forest until I found yours."She deadpanned, and I frowned angrily.

"I do have a doorbell."I reminded her, though not one someone could easily find after the years of dirt being piled on top of it. She shrugged, as if her appearing here were completely normal. In all our years of knowing the other, she'd come down here a total of one time, and that was because she didn't actually know it was my home and had stumbled upon it.

Now, she walked around, looking at the stone walls, ceiling, and floor, at the black bed placed against the far wall, at the thin, flickering, black candle that was lit on the mahogany desk at which I sat, and looked indifferently as she had the first time. Most people would find this place frightening and those with common sense wouldn't dare venture far into here. That was the design plan.

Astrid, though, subscribed to no normal rules of common sense, and therefore looked completely comfortable.

"You know, you really could use some color in here. How about red? Or pink, I think you're a pink kinda guy."She mused, as if dropping in were completely normal. I, on the other hand, was having none of it. I knew her long enough to know when something was going on, and something about how her eyes avoided mine, about how she looked slightly tense, and how her fingers moved in a toying motion within the pockets of her jacket gave me all the tells to know she was up to something.

"What are you doing here?"I demanded, and she turned away from me, picking up another black-bound novel from the rock-growth nightstand, looking over it as if she could actually read the language on the cover.

"What, I can't visit an old friend for a chat and a cup of tea?"

"I don't have tea. And we aren't friends." I corrected her, and she groaned, placing the book back haphazardly on the table, the nightmare still galloping around the small space with the butterfly.

"Pitch, don't any of these books teach you how to-"

"Astrid."I cut her off, and she finally turned to me, her face a mask of calm and annoyance that I saw right through. I narrowed my eyes and turned in the chair so that I could half-face her, one arm draping over the back and legs crossed. "What's wrong? You never come down here, and I highly doubt you wanted to chat. And don't bother lying to me, you know it's useless at this point."

"You know, I didn't _have _to keep letting you drop-in whenever you wanted."She retorted, but I saw a little bit of the mask crack, a little bit of worry seep in, something quite uncharacteristic of her. I leaned back a bit, lacing my fingers together in my lap as she leaned against a bed post, half-turned to her and wondering what kind of game she was playing here. I knew the only way to find out anything about Astrid, the only way to see through her little plans, was to play along until I found an 'in' from which she couldn't escape.

"And yet you did. And look how well that turned out?"I mused, the nightmare still toying with the butterfly like they were old friends on the other side of the bed from Astrid.

"Well, we _did _single-handidly piss off an entire race of spirits and their progenitor by just being alive."

"I think we deserve a drink."

"You said you didn't have tea."

"You didn't answer my question." Ahhh, there we go. She paused, caught between wanting to say something and not knowing what to say that could possibly change the subject, blinking a few times as she realized that I was not allowing this little home invasion to go unexplained. I cocked an eyebrow and waited expectantly, elbow on the desk behind me as I watched her try and come up with an excuse.

Finally, she relented.

"You're gonna be pissed." I always appreciated how blunt she could be.

"Tell me something new." I drawled sarcastically, rolling my eyes as she leaned on the bedpost more, hands in her pockets nervously, eyes darting around the room. It wasn't odd that Astrid acted like this, knowing more times than once that she had done something idiotic, normally something to do with a confrontation with a rather powerful spirit or accidentally lost one of my nightmares...although, she'd never gone so far as to come to my home before.

"Something new?...Well...this is definitely new. You remember when you left, and I went to help out Jack Frost with those creepy black things because he looked like he was about to piss himself?"She asked, and I nodded slowly, catching her scuff the floor with her sneaker, making me frown abit. "Well, turns out he was so scared because those things actually affect the Guardians pretty harshly. As in, it blocks out everything but fear and some kinda suffocating sensation that it doesn't give us."

"...Astrid, where are you going with this? Are you suggesting a new weapon against them, because if you are I am highly flattered but-"

"Jack Frost asked me if I wanted to lend them a hand...and I didn't exactly say 'no'." She cut me off, and after she said it she looked down in a way that only a guilty child could, wincing a bit in preparation for my reaction. And I couldn't blame her, because for a moment I was about to outright question her mental sanity and verbally destroy every aspect of what she had just said, tensing and eyes flying wide open.

I had to physically restrain myself from displaying my shock to the point it was at, fingers tensing and gaping at her, barely able to contain myself as I exclaimed skeptically, thinking this must be some sort of a joke,

"The Guardians? The ones that about as ignorant and capable as a sack of unwashed potatoes? The ones that directly serve, oh what was that man's name, _**MiM**_?! And somehow, by some dramatic twist of fate, you actually decided to _assist _them in fighting things that A) have nothing to do with us and B) even if they did, we are more than capable of taking them on ourselves? Please, _please _tell me your reasoning behind this."

It wasn't that I was concerned for Astrid. Wasn't that I was anything trivial or frivolous such as jealous. It was that I knew Astrid, knew her better than any other had ever known her before, and since the dawn of her very existance she had proven to be unshaken in whatever views she had. That included a profound and completely reasonable hatred towards the man she would be assisting if she actually carried through with this plan. That, and she only other being on this planet that I actually found enjoyment in conversing with, the only other being with whom I shared anything.

If I lost that, I wouldn't spiral into some depression, I wasn't that attached...but something still tugged inside me, and I was too busy trying to figure out what possessed her to do this to reason it away.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, okay? I still hate the asshole, and I still hate them...but Jack made some pretty good points. Is there some 'Spirit Debate Club'? He should join that shit."Astrid tried to veer away, but I brought her right back, standing up and taking two steps towards her, her eyes straying to the wall on which the head of the bed was pressed.

"Astrid, they are either threatening you with something stronger than anything I could fathom, or you've actually agreed to help those freaks that you've said time and time again you detest."I said warningly, and she ran a hand down her face, brushing black hair with shines of lighter blue, only to have it fall back into her eyes, messily cut as if she'd done it herself before she was 'chosen'.

"It's kinda a bit of both, I guess. Jack and I had a little heart-to-heart after I kinda scared him for life for recalling how I caused his death being the totally sensitive and aware person that I am, and he told me a lot of things that actually kinda relate to you and me. Then I remembered how _you _told me that Jack actually understood, that he could really almost grasp what it was like to be alone and hated, back right before you had to take a long siesta."

"Yes, I said _Jack _could. I said nothing about those other imbeciles!" I defended myself, and she swung sideways, pulling herself up onto the foot of the bed and swinging her feet an inch off the ground, looking still away from me as she insisted,

"I know, they're thick-headed and don't get it at all! But what good would it be doing to refuse, huh? Isn't helping them going to help even a little bit, to prove that at least I'm not some dark overlord who wants to destroy the world just because I know how useful tragedy can be in a person's life? And they accepted my help without consulting MiM, which is something I'm pretty damn sure will piss him off to no end. It's kind of a win-win."

"For _them._ They get to accomplish their goals and MiM gets to keep you in sight."I retorted a bit harsher than I'd planned, narrowing my eyes. I knew how persuasive that frost spirit could be, convincing those children to continue believing even when their idols were right there in front of them and so very, deliciously weak. But it was his words. His 'sense of fun'. Something I thought Astrid could see past.

"You're a real supporter, ya know that?"She muttered out, annoyed and clearly stressed, glaring over at where the nightmare and the butterfly continued to jump and frolic. I rolled my eyes, and maybe it was the ludicrousy of the moment, or maybe it was that I had some severely suppressed protective instinct over this brat, but I ignored the obvious signs of stress and desperation she gave off and pushed on.

"I apologize that I don't support you aiding a group of individuals who have done nothing but add onto the ignorance of those around us. And what about Aster?" I saw her flinch, and looking back on it, I wasn't sure why I didn't stop then. Why I would go so far as to use that against her when this had no direct impact on me whether she helped the Guardians or not. It wasn't like they could change her, worst case being that she did help them and succeeded and possibly got on good terms with them. That didn't mean I still wouldn't visit her, didn't make her any less unique, didn't make her fear any less fascinating.

But I did go on, something in the back of my mind urging me.

"Are you honestly willing to prove anything to them, going through seeing him every day and listen to him call you crazy, just because Jack Frost said some well-chosen words-"

"Shut up." It was quiet, Astrid never truly raised her voice, but held the same power. I stopped, realizing what I'd said and inwardly cursing myself, seeing the nightmare and butterfly pause in their play, looking over curiously and nervously. I looked down at Astrid, seeing her hunched a bit over and glaring daggers at the floor to the point where I thought she thought she might be able to split it in two.

I took in a deep breath to steady myself, not expecting her sudden visit to entail something as drastic as this, as...reckless. And I sighed, because wasn't that exactly what Astrid was? Completely and irresponsibly reckless after years of having no proper guidance and a world full of angst all cooped up in an immortally teenage body. So something like this shouldn't be so shocking, despite the absurdity of it.

And yet I also knew Astrid to never truly make a decision unless something was strongly pushing her in that direction. I recalled, almost an eternity ago, when I'd first been drawn towards the child. I could have given her all the power in the world at that point, having learned of her existence and wanting that power. But she did not agree, even though she had every reason to, even though she understood how terrible her situation had been. And I'd respected that, allowed her to say no. Afterall, she didn't need anyone else forcing something on her.

With that thought, I suddenly understood how much thought Astrid truly must have put into this. It took her forty years of turmoil before she opened up to _me, _and this decision was clearly not something she took as normal, not with the way she was acting. She actually thought about this, and she believed it was an OK decision. And, as ludicrous and ridiculous as it was, that almost made me accept it. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen, and she was doing it a majority because she thought it would anger MiM.

Little did she know that nothing she did could ever make that pathetic man angry at her.

"...I suppose coming down here for confirmation didn't exactly turn out quite to plan."I muttered in a self-depreciating kind of way, but she didn't exactly agree. In fact, she stiffened a bit and reached a hand up to scratch at the back of her neck, her tell for being nervous. Sometimes I was surprised that spot wasn't rubbed raw.

Except now I was curious. Suspicious.

"Astrid..."I mused warningly, and she gave off a nervous chuckle, standing up and walking over to the nightmare, running a hand along its nose and soothing it as it nickered and pushed up into her palm affectionately, me not even having enough mental space to be angry with that.

"Uh, I didn't exactly come down here for that..."She trailed off, the butterfly fluttering around her head before going over to the nightmare and resting there. My eyes narrowed and I stepped forward, hands behind my back as I asked,

"Then what _did _you come down here for?" She paused, cleared her throat, and tapped one finger on a ridge of black sand on the nose of the nightmare, its eyes closing in contentment as I could almost see her fidget. A bad feeling settled in my stomach.

"You."

Of all the bloody spirits I could have...

"Astrid, I swear to whatever I have left to swear on that you have gone one-hundred percent _insane _if you think I'm going to-!"

"Listen!"She exclaimed, turning around with a look of persuasion and slight desperation that her pride was doing its best to cover up, holding out one hand as she insisted, "I get it, you don't like the guys-"

"They _sent me into a cave with my own fears-_"

"Yeah, yeah, real rotten dudes!"She agreed, and I gaped at her as she continued, "But listen, Pitch, it's not just that there may or may not be too many creatures that could possibly exist for me to handle, or that you're the only other being that doesn't get affected by them, or even that having both of us needed would _seriously _piss-off MiM, it's that..." She cut herself off, and I saw a flash of something in her eyes akin to confliction, a look she got when her pride got in the way of something.

She shoved her hands back into the front pockets of her jacket and became very serious, shaking her head and looking me dead in the eye. She must have understood how ridiculous the situation was, how suddenly her decision seemed to be after hating their guts just yesterday. She must have understood that our whatever-it-was connection involved visits, plotting, sarcastic quips, mutual hatred, a needing of the other's company that neither would admit, and someone to be there after a nightmare, just to let her know that she wasn't truly alone.

It did not involve the Guardians, nor doing them any favors. And she must have seen something in my eyes, the suspicion that I hadn't wanted to speak or think for fear that it might be true, because the next thing she said was,

"You think this is what MiM was plotting?" I stayed silent and gave her a look, searching, just to make sure. To see if it were truly there, the unmistakable influence that the man could have, the situations he could play out, the look in someone's eyes when they were being _used._

And I heavily relaxed when I saw something in that small girl that held such massive power, in those dark green eyes under messily-cut, black hair that stopped just below her jaw, in that confident and cocky stance. It was always there, uniquely her, and possibly the most solid thing that connected us other than our broken-ness and rather dark job requirements. Something that couldn't be stifled by any outside influence.

Defiance.

"No, no I do not. I do, on the other hand, think you're a raving lunatic. What would I possibly gain from aiding those fools? For all I know, they'd lock me up the moment I got there and try to make a repeat performance of the last time we met, and I'm not all too keen on bonding with those things."I mused, pointing to the nightmare behind Astrid. It huffed a bit, and she shot me a playful glare, one that was almost refreshing after seeing the uncharacteristic desperation and stress in her eyes.

"Hey, they've got feelings too!"She snapped, reaching a hand back and reassuring the beast.

"Yes, thanks to you. Remind me to find something that can kill you and send it to you in the mail to repay you."I deadpanned, and she scoffed, looking affectionately at the nightmare that most people would tremble before, saying lightly,

"Besides, the Guardians already agreed to you coming with me. I said I wouldn't help them without you there, so if I get too chummy with them you can keep me in line. Hm?" I stared at her in surprise, imagining the Guardians actually agreeing to having me, the Boogeyman, on their side. And as ridiculous as it sounded, it was also delightful, thinking of how terribly frightened and helpless they must be against these creatures if they needed _my _help, if they were willing to allow me near them...

"Pitch, you're getting that creepy sociopathic look on your face again. Remember, this is just to get those creatures out of our hair before they become an issue, then we leave and you can vent your homicidal tendencies _later_." Astrid managed to snap me back to Earth, and I gave her an indifferent stare. And she gave me a look of defiance right back.

"...I will not enjoy their company, nor will I play by their rules."

"Diddo."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

And with that I sealed my absolute demise. I knew that associating myself with this girl was going to be dangerous. The things I do for her, honestly. If I'd have known that, in the beginning of this, she would talk me into actually assisting the bloody _Guardians_ then I might have tried less enthusiastically to break through those relatable walls of hers.

She seemed to relax, and something about her got a bit brighter, making me scowl and cross my arms, expecting her to now leave me in peace whilst I waited for her to elaborate on what exactly it was I was supposed to do in order to assist those imbeciles and having as little contact with them as humanly possible.

"Great! Let's go!"She said a bit too fast, and my eyes narrowed again as she pulled out something from her jacket pocket and threw it right in the center of the room. Something all-too familiar. My eyes shot wide as I opened my mouth to retaliate, to let her know that I hadn't agreed to _this, _when something shoved me from behind and sent me barreling through the portal without another word.

I didn't even take stock to find out where I was when I arrived on the other side, only spinning around to see Astrid and the nightmare jump out, the butterfly fluttering behind her as I snapped,

"What in the _BLOODY BLUE HELL_ do you think you're doing?! I said I'd help these buffoons, not go to the damned...where are we?!" I spun around again and glared, seething, only to see the line of people I hated most in the world currently standing there with faces a mixture of pulsating fear and irrational smiles. Something caught my eyes and I quickly looked to my right...

The globe. Lights flickering mockingly. So much joy and merriness in the air that I thought I was going to be sick.

"...Listen, if I had things my way, I wouldn't be here either." Astrid mused in a voice far too calm for my likes, disbelief, fury, and an overwhelming sense of wanting to destroy everything in sight clouding my mind as I spun around back towards her, the nightmare jumping behind her and giving me a frightened look, shadows flaring out all around me in a massive wave that only died down enough to still cling to the bottom of my robe, the others taking audible steps back.

But not Astrid. She stood there, calm-faced, hands in her pockets as she tossed the snowglobe up and down carelessly, the portal closing behind her. I opened my mouth to say something, anything that would bring her back to her senses, skin crawling just having to _be here_, wanting to take by my acceptance right then and there.

"It's either this or I tell them where you live." She cut me off, and I paused, seething and panting heavily.

"I did not agree to _this._ I hardly agreed to anything at all!" I snapped, but even as I spoke I knew it was a losing battle. I was Pitch Black, the Nightmare King.

I was also forced into doing something because a girl two-thousand years my junior was too stubborn to allow me to say no.

"Hey, that's kinda what you said, Astrid!" I heard a familiar voice quip, and I turned, glaring as the frost spirit smiled at Astrid in a far-too-familiar way, as if they were already _friends..._ Oh, this almost made it worth it. This was almost too entertaining to leave. Did they... I looked at the faces of the others as Astrid walked around me and leaned on the railing, staying a noticable distance from the rest of them. Oh, they _did._ They smiled at her, sans Aster who merely moped in the corner and attempted to skewer me with his eyes, to which I gave an icy smirk.

But the rest, no, the rest smiled and looked almost hopeful. Almost like they could convert her. Almost like she was anything like Jack at all...they thought they could be her _friends_. I looked back at Astrid in response to their smiles, a slight, hightly uncomftorble frown and an apathetic stretch, raising her hands above her head.

The Spirit of Tragedy, who had been through too much to even come close to fitting these people's image of 'friend'. I'd known her for over three billion years, and even _we _weren't friends. I looked back at them again, to the nightmare behind me, to the smoke butterfly, to Astrid, to Aster, to the globe. I thought of Astrid's words, of how quickly the situation had gone from me just sitting and reading, minding my own buisiness, to standing in the center of the overlook with the Guardians, about to aid them against a force that would take all of five minutes to defeat.

And had I known then what I was truly getting myself into, had I known what was about to happen, what this all would lead to...I wasn't so sure that I would have stayed. I wasn't so sure that I would have taken the risk, bit through the misery and hatred that coiled in my veins just being this close to them, the twitching of my fingers aching to watch nightmares and fears dance prettily across their faces. I wasn't so sure that I would have relented, though I was in Santoff Claussen and yet unable to do anything to it even if I was physically able to.

Yes, had I known what the future held, I'd have fled back to my home and pretended as if none of this had ever happened. But my many talents did not hold fortune telling, and therefore I gave each of them a steady glare and warned, shadows flickering out from me like smoke to a candle,

"If any of you disturbe me or even think about approaching me with anything other than a severe emergency I will unleash nightmares upon you the likes of which you have never even fathomed." I turned away from them, catching an amused smirk on Astrid's face, before turning away and walking down the hall before me, the nightmare looking between me and Astrid before finally following me, trotting to my side as I left behind an awkward silence, different fears reading out from the others like piano music.

Will I stay true? Was this a good idea? What if I don't follow through? What if Astrid doesn't follow through?... And then a very familiar fear out of all of them, one trying to be stifled like they all normally were. One that made me sigh and relent all at the same time, shaking my head.

_What if I'm wrong?_

Well, Astrid, you should have thought of that before you dragged me into it.

"Look at me."I muttered as I left ear-shot of the others, the corridor dark spare large arched windows to my right that let in filtered moonlight. I glared up to the larger-than-normal moon and said in a quiet tone that I knew he could hear, "I bet you're either quite furious or getting quite a kick out of this, aren't you? The big-bad-Boogeyman working with your lapdogs because they can't do something and have somehow convinced Astrid that it was a good idea to work with them."

There was no response, just a cloud covering the moon. I scoffed, wishing I could do that right about now. I looked back ahead of me, knowing that there must be some room here where I could hide away and hope never to see any of them again until this whole thing was over. It was overly-wishful thinking, but considering what I'd just let Astrid drag me into, it was completely reasonable.

The nightmare next to me nudged my ribs and I shooed it away, muttering grumpily,

"Traitor. I know it was you that shoved me through that portal, and don't think you're getting off easy for it, either." It merely galloped ahead of me, as if perfectly content with this situation, making me grit my teeth and curse under my breath. I hated this, _hated_. Here I was with my sworn enemies, and what was I doing? Helping them, staying at 'Santa's Workshop'...

...I needed a bloody nap.


	6. Personal Space

_-The chapter in which Astrid had encounters with all the Guardians and they learn a thing or two about 'personal space'-_

_~Astrid~_

I may have been older than all of these guys by a few hundred to billion years, but that didn't mean that I didn't still have a little part of me that had always wanted to see the inner workings of the North Pole. Now, with not only time (sleeping here, while I was sure I could handle myself, was still a bit of a feat of trust that I didn't have yet) but also the ability, I found myself trapped in a bit of childhood nostalgia. I wandered about, peeking into different work rooms filled from floor-to-ceiling with tinsel, wood, plastic, tools, glitter, googly eyes, and other curious-looking things that I didn't have a name for.

It was all so massive, Santoff Claussen being bigger than any building I'd seen, and I'd been over the globe twenty times over. A building fit for the side of a mountain and a man almost as large as one. The corridors never seemed to end, just branching off to the perimeter and then a few more dipping into a maze of halls that criss-crossed the interior, with hundreds upon thousands of intricately-decorated doors with borders of reds, golds, and greens, and even though I stayed towards the perimeter, I found myself lost.

I stopped in the center of a dimly lit hallway, the smells of hazelnut, eggnog, fir trees, and woodworking all mingling together despite everyone being asleep...other than me, that is. It was well into the night, so I couldn't depend on the random stray yeti to point me somewhere, not that they took a particular liking to me anyways with their shifty eyes, thinking my smoke was something caught on fire.

I groaned, hands shoved into my pockets as I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, sighing and exhausted despite my vow not to fall asleep here until I could trust that one of them wouldn't try to smother me in my sleep. And it wasn't as if I were physically tired, anyway, just mentally and emotionally. After what happened today at the overlook, after taking the first half of my wandering to contemplate how in the hell this actually ended up happening after the beginning of a completely normal day, and then Pitch not-so-enthusiastically agreeing to be here, too, I just needed silence. And I got silence.

But I was also not so sure I'd ever be able to find my way out of here ever again, spending eternity wandering the wooden halls of the North Pole. What a shitty way to go. Then again, if I really did get lost for a long enough period of time Pitch would be able to find me, not that this was why I brought him along in the first place. Part of me actually did relax a bit when I remembered that Pitch was there, somewhere up on the upper floors that probably held just as many rooms as this one, wishing I'd paid more attention when North explained how to get to my room.

I knew Pitch wouldn't be happy to come here, and part of me was actually shocked that he even agreed in the first place, almost positive that he'd probably rip my head off, tell me explicitly how idiotic this whole thing was, and then send me on my way alone...though now, thinking about it, I wasn't exactly sure why I thought that. He'd been with me through everything, literally, wither he wanted to or not, usually not.

Probably because this time was a tad bit more serious. Before it had been rebelling against someone he already hated, and other than that? Just little nightmares. Maybe tormenting a spirit or two, but nothing at all more serious than that. And suddenly, I opened my eyes, looking forward down the hallway and sighing, frowning in wonder. I'd been too into my own little world to think about it, too stressed and inwardly conflicted, but this was a whole new level of whatever it was that we had.

It went from nightmares to going against pretty much everything he stood for, and for what? Pitch and I were both broken, both spent more time with the other than we'd ever spent with anyone, shared not just war stories but held similar scars...but we weren't anything like _friends_. And for the first time, I found myself wondering why Pitch would agree to something like this, why I didn't question it earlier...

"Oh! There you are!" I nearly jumped out of my damned skin, letting out a shout of surprise and spinning around, almost falling on my ass as I stumbled backwards, the face of the Tooth Fairy inches from mine with a smile too damn happy for this hour of night.

"Tooth Fairy!"I shouted breathlessly, clutching at my heart over my sweatshirt as she buzzed before me, hands pulled to just under her chin in an excited manner.

"Oh hey there Astrid! And you can just call me 'Tooth'! By the way, North's just been wondering where you were, hope you didn't get lost! Well I guess you did, this place is _huge _right?! I almost got lost myself! Really funny, one time I was going through trying to find some sugar-free candy canes and- oh, I'll tell you later! Anyways, why aren't you in bed? Do you need sleep? Or are you one of those spirits that don't sleep? Jack's kinda like that sometimes, but I think every young body needs sleep! You aren't young though are you? How curious! You look just about Jack's age! But imagine, you're almost as old as _Pitch!_ Speaking of which, I'm glad you brought him here- Oh! That's right! I've got to shoot on down to Asia to pick up an adorable little baby tooth! Anyway, you should let North know you're okay! Get some sleep! Remember to brush!"

And one blur of green, gold, and purple later, she was gone, leaving me standing there. Confused. Twitching.

"What...what just happened?"I muttered quietly to myself, one eyebrow raised and looking around incredulously, mind trying to process that entire one-sided conversation while still recovering from the shock of having that woman suddenly appear out of nowhere and then rush off again. I slowly shook my head, mumbling, "Is that how _all _people talk?"

"Nope, just Tooth." I turned again, this time surprisingly less-shocked, hearing Jack's voice and seeing the frost spirit floating up to me, an amused look in his eye as he watched the spot Tooth had left from, me sighing and running a hand through my hair. Out of all the spirits here, excluding Pitch, Jack was probably the only one who could get away with sneaking up behind me accidentally, and not just because of that icy cold wind that he brought with him everywhere.

"She's...uh..." I couldn't find words, still unconfident about if that interaction was normal or not, only being used to Pitch's slow and dry sarcasm. To be honest, I was a bit out-of-touch with social interactions...as in, _really _out-of-touch, as I'd proven to Jack already when I emotionally scarred him for life.

"She's just Tooth, thankfully the others don't talk that fast." Jack laughed as he spoke, bare feet finally touching the floor as he leaned on the crook of his staff and offered a lopsided smile that appeared a bit softer at the first part of his sentence, as if he'd thought about something he liked. I shrugged and asked, tired and not too keen on actually doing what Tooth had asked of me,

"But are they all so damn...I don't know..._cheery?_ I mean c'mon, I might not be all bad, but I'm the freaking Spirit of Tragedy! Some personal space would be awesome!" Jack laughed and tapped his finger onto the wall next to him, sending a frost pattern spiraling over the wallpaper.

"Yeah, they're not into that. Something you'll learn about these guys pretty quick is that they aren't exactly close-minded when it comes to hugs." He explained, and I outwardly cringed, and not in a joking way, either. I legitimately flinched at the idea, a momentary flashback of what could happen if anyone touched me at the wrong moment, if they got caught up in even a wisp of the smoke. I might not exactly be on friendly terms with these guys, but I didn't even do that to my _enemies_, let alone this just-ignorant-hasn't-tried-to-kill-me-yet group of lapdogs.

Jack caught sight of it and instantly his face changed to one of concern, holding up a hand and saying,

"Woah, what? You really that sensitive to hugging, cuz I can talk to them about it." I half-tried to compose myself, half-tried to comprehend how someone like Jack could exist and me having not met him yet. I looked him straight in the eye, wanting to ask him if he knew who he was talking to. Who he was being _kind _to. I was Astrid, the one spirit that may very well rival Pitch in level of detestment and anti-fan-club members. I was infamous.

"You're real nice for a guy who's talking to the Spirit of Tragedy, kiddo."I mused warningly, raising an eyebrow and absentmindedly shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie even further, knuckles imprinting against the bottom seam, finding a bit of grounding in the dark and soft comfort there. And yet, I felt I didn't need it, not around this kid at least, and that was odd. Jack was odd. Hell, this whole situation was odd.

He gave me a bit smile and his eyes lit up, mischief and bragging dancing behind his frost-patterned irises as he leaned forward a bit, holding out an arm and motioning to himself dramatically.

"You're very un-irritated for talking to the infamous pain-in-the-neck, Jack Frost." He introduced in very much the same overly-dramatic manner as he stood, and I had to actually hold back a chuckle at that, giving him a lopsided smirk and rolling my eyes, asking,

"Seriously? People must have _loved _you when you first got here. Sarcastic little fuzz ball like you? Must have fit right in." Jack's smile wavered a moment, and I tensed a bit, instantly asking, "Shit, did I do something wrong again?" He looked at me surprised, and then, to my utter shock, he _laughed. _I just stood here, eyebrows raised and wondering if I was so out of touch that even Jack Frost could confuse me in conversation, tilting my head to the side and wishing I'd spoken to a few more people just so that I could know if this was normal in conversation.

"What? "I asked seriously, and he looked up, controlling himself and then sliding a hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, smiling at me. Well, at least I knew I hadn't offended him again...

"Nothing, you just really remind me of how it used to be for me. See, I'm the Guardian of Fun, and _fun _isn't exactly something that other spirits can cope with. I guess I was the annoying little brother of everyone, and that coupled with being invisible kind of made it hard to integrate with these guys' form of affection, you know? I mean, seriously, Tooth was holding back right then! I'm surprised she hasn't tried to look at your teeth yet." He explained, pointing to the hall that the fairy had zipped down.

I recalled, in our first conversation before he'd suckered me into this whole mess, how he mentioned being alone in the beginning. I assumed he meant without children that could see him, but other spirits too? Hell, even the grouchiest of entities managed to find at least one person they could tolerate... And then I reminded myself that this kid was 300 years old, just a baby compared to me, and probably hadn't even had time to meet _half _the spirits out there.

"Hey kid, maybe you just weren't meeting the right people, huh? You seem to fit in just fine here, even if the personal-space thing may have been an issue." I mused, leaning forward a bit to stretch out my back, Jack grinning and nodding, ruffling his own hair as he joked,

"Yeah, I guess you can't base much off of trying to hang around Bunny. He's the fun equivalent of a rabies shot." I wanted to laugh, but something kind of caught me. It was one of those moments where I was caught between laughing and frowning, two different emotions playing out in my chest as my mind betrayed me, wandering off to a question that I wished I never thought of, because once I did, not only was it accompanied by a memory, a memory of a smile and laughter...but also a need to get it answered.

I looked away from Jack and at the wall, fighting with myself, telling myself to absolutely _not ask him, _to not even _think about it_, that it would do no good and probably only hurt me and I didn't need any more stress right now with the internal war waging and the fact that I had no clue what I was doing and-

"Was he always like this, or did something happen?" God dammit mouth, listen to my brain for once in your life...

"Who, Bunny?..."Jack asked, and I looked over at him, seeing him thinking and scratching the back of his head, thanking my lucky stars that he didn't even look the least bit suspicious. "Well, he's been a grouch since the first time I met him, but come to think of it...yeah, he actually _smiled_ when we were playing with Sophie that one time."

I gave him a curious look, and he caught it, explaining,

"Sophie's this cute little girl that managed to get into the Warren once. That's where Bunny lives. I swear, the guy actually had a personality for a second!"

_Little girl._

__I shook myself out of those thoughts, cursed myself, and vehemently told myself to _not _get any form of hope up, smothering it down deep into myself, reminding myself that things like that didn't actually happen. It was a fairy tale, and this was no fairy tale. This had no happy ending.

I looked up at Jack to say something, only to see a ghost of golden sand filter over his shoulder, Sandman appearing a few moments later and rubbing one eye, yawning and waving a tiny little arm at us. Jack saw the sand and turned, seeing Sandy just behind him and exclaiming,

"Hey Sandy! Isn't it past your bedtime?" Sandy stuck his tongue out at Jack jokingly, and then made swift sand images above his head. Great. I was bad with _vocal _communication, and now this little mute. Jack, on the other hand, seemed completely capable of understand it, smiling and nodding.

"Yeah, Tooth just passed by. I'm about to head off to bed, too, just stopped to talk to Astrid." Upon mention of my name, 'Sandy' looked over and waved at me, beaming, as I managed to both awkwardly wave and smirk at the same time, feeling like I looked like a baby seal learning to swim. But Sandy didn't seem to mind, just pointing down the hall sternly at Jack and then making an image of a snowflake above his head, Z's coming from it.

"Okay, okay, I was just going!" Jack defended, turning and floating a bit past me, calling behind him, "Night Astrid! Don't let the elves bite!... Like, seriously, they _will_." And with that and a cold gust of wind, he flew down and around the corner, Sandy floating lazily past me on a cloud of golden sand that I inched a bit away from. He looked at me and, rubbing sleep from one eye, pointed to me and then made Zs above his head again, but this time in a question.

He was asking if I needed to sleep?...Or if I needed help sleeping? I paused, looking at him and pressing myself a little too hard against the wall behind me, something uncomftorble and self-conscious bubbling up inside of me as I slowly shook my head and stuttered out,

"Uh n-no thanks...I'm good...thanks." He shrugged and waved at me, smiling and floating down the hall merrily, disappearing and trailing a bit of golden sand behind that melted into the floorboards and disappeared, leaving me there, staring incredulously after him. Some thing in my chest tightened, and I couldn't distinguish between confusion and suspicion, couldn't figure out why they were...being _nice._

Some part of me still wondered if this whole thing wasn't just some plot by a bunch of spirits who I'd wronged somehow over the years, wasn't just some joke to pull on me that I'd somehow drug Pitch into, that a group of people could be _this _nice to me without something behind it, without some plan to gain something from it... I mean, no one had ever done this before. No one had ever been anything other than hostile and confrontational, and then along comes these idiots and they all-of-a-sudden force me to stay here, give me a freaking room, and _want _my help? And then they're nice...

A butterfly fluttered in my vision and distracted me, pulling me from my thoughts and stress that still hummed quietly in my chest, the little thing almost tenderly brushing my forehead and then pulling back, in a beckoning kind of way. I shook my head and took a deep breath, asking the thing quietly,

"What's up, little thing?" It flew in a circle, and I'd known these things long enough to know that it was trying to tell me to take a walk. I swear, these things were about as sassy as Pitch, and I was debating not allowing them in his presence any longer. One of him was hard enough to deal with.

I rolled my eyes, but followed, the thing fluttering in front of me and smoke ghosting over my face, leading me down the way I'd come but taking different twists and turns. The thing must have had a better grasp on the place than I did, because in just a few minutes we were walking up the stairs of the overlook and out onto the landing, me turning and walking over to the area of the railing that wasn't blocked by what looked like a half-wooden half-technological control board.

The cold golden metal pressed into my sleeves as I leaned over, frowning as I looked out at the giant globe before me, reaching a hand out absent mindedly and letting the little creature fall onto the back of my knuckles. The globe was massive, stretching from the floor to the open hole in the ceiling that let in cold air, lights flickering and pulsating in rhythm on all different continents, the globe rotating and displaying all the children that believed in these guys.

Talk about an ego trip. I frowned, looking at them and eyes tracing over the writing on the globe that had died out when I was a few thousand years old, recognizing a few letters Pitch had taught me when I tried to take up reading(possibly the most miserable failure of my entire existence). I looked at those lights, flickering in the darkness, and my mind began to drift, that dark little thing in the back of my mind that made me think painful thoughts wondering what it might be like to be these guys.

Ignorant. Lapdogs. Blind. Tools. Naively kind to strangers. Loved. Strange. A family.

I hate my mind sometimes.

"Ah! How adorable!" All I could see was a massive, tattooed hand reaching for the butterfly and I jumped, snapping my wrist instinctively and making the little thing disappear, cursing as my heart pounded, once again, far too fast.

"Jesus! You guys ever hear about announcing when you jump up behind someone like that?!"I exclaimed, backing up until my lower back was touching the edge of the control panel, North looking at me curiously, his hand half-taken back and brows furrowed in confusion, me panting and raising my hand up.

"I scare you?" He asked in his thick accent, and I just gave him a 'yeah, yeah you freaking did!' look, nodding and catching my breath back, keeping a fair distance between us. He seemed utterly perplexed at the thought that Santa Clause could scare anyone, and maybe it was because this was the second time it had happened tonight, or because I was becoming a bit fed up with all of this and wanted to get this figured out now before they found a way to kill me by heart-attack, but I decided now was time for a bit of explaining.

I could almost hear Pitch saying that they didn't deserve any explaining, but this couldn't hurt...

"Not everyone's used to people being around them, St. Nick. And you guys definitely break my personal-space-bubble." I said breathlessly, swallowing a bit and getting my breath back, seeing North's eyebrows furrow further, but this time thoughtfully. I looked at him, seeing something in his eyes that...and I would never admit this to myself...but it was almost a little bit like how a kid would imagine Santa Clause to be. A bit naive. A bit reckless. A bit thoughtful. A bit kind.

"Ah, yes. Jack was same way at first, very sensitive to hugs and what not. But after first few he gets used to it, no? Yes!" He exclaimed happily, answering his own question and holding his arms out as if he were _actually going to hug me_. I quickly backed up until the edge of the board behind me dug harshly into my lower back, holding my arms to my sides tightly and exclaiming, panic running through me,

"Woah! Hold on! Stop, stop, stop!" North jolted to a halt, eyebrows raised and confusion written all over his face, a small bit of hurt there that should not have bothered me as much as it did, the bit oaf lowering his arms a bit as I explained quickly, before he could get any more ideas, "Yeah, I get it, Jack can take the hugs, and that's all great, but even if I made physical contact with anyone on a weekly basis, a _yearly basis_, it's still way too dangerous."

North scratched the back of his head, me relaxing a bit and allowing me to take a breath as his arms finally lowered. I gulped a bit and tried to un-frazzle myself.

"Wow, never had to _stop _someone from coming near me before. First time for everything. "I muttered, and it was supposed to be to myself, but North replied instead,

"No other spirit hugs you?" I almost laughed, because he'd asked it in a way where he thought everyone just went around hugging each other...and maybe they did. Hell, I didn't know! And this situation was becoming more uncomftorble by the second, my feet shifting as I nodded and explained, hands slowly finding their way into my pockets,

"Um, no. No they do not. In case you couldn't tell, Pitch isn't exactly the hugging type, and I'm not the type to _be _hugged, especially when it can involve accidental mental scarring. Which was why I stopped you from touching _this_." I quickly nodded my head forward and a piece of smoke swirled into existence, condensing and turning into a butterfly, fluttering around and back to me before settling on my shoulder.

"That? But es teensy little butterfly!" North said, smile too bright and voice too adorable for a man of his imposing size, making me question not just everyone else's, but his mental sanity as well.

"Yeah, I get it. You get giant yetis. Pitch gets black stallions. I got effing butterflies. Want me to explain what it does or tell me again how I have _the lamest _little helpers in the world. No offense." I added the last part to the butterfly on my shoulder, which fluttered roughly in protest but did not move from my shoulder, opening and closing petal-shaped wings slowly.

"Well, we _did _research little bit on who you were. "North admitted, almost shyly, and I didn't know I was smiling. Didn't know my tone had gotten too comftroble, or that I was starting to get too relaxed.

"Yeah, Jackie told me. But I've read that article before...well, some of it...and it's conveniently edited. "I mused, shaking my head and looking out at the globe, now leaning casually back against the panel when I should have been on guard...but for some reason, I didn't notice. Something didn't feel...I don't know...forced. Threatening.

"Then tell the left-out parts."

And _now _I started to notice.

I looked at him incredulously, pausing a moment as everything hit me all at once. I was comfortable, too comfortable. And had I seriously just said that?!...No, had _he _seriously just said that? I shook myself inwardly, stepping back in my mind and looking at the situation. I was talking to the leader of the lapdogs, the one guy who would not take any of my crap no matter _what. _

And then I took another step back in my mind, and looked at the entire picture, and almost cursed out loud. Because here I was, and how in the hell did I get here? Because Jack Frost said some well-chosen words and because something inside of me told me to do this? Because maybe Pitch was wrong, and maybe this actually _was _MiM just messing with me in a new way that Pitch didn't know about, and maybe I should just cut my losses and get out of this conversation before things got bad, because the only thing worse than all this stress over getting myself into this is all the stress of getting kicked out of this.

"I...I gotta get to bed. "I said quickly, and didn't even look him in the eye as I quickly walked around him and over to the hallway, head down and butterfly fluttering obliviously next to me, wondering if I could get any more awkward than I was right then. But I couldn't have that conversation, not with someone I just met, not with someone who didn't understand. It was different with Pitch. We didn't even need to have the conversation, he just knew and I just knew. They...they didn't-

"You know, we may all seem very similar, but not all of us are close-minded, little one."

I stopped mid-step, foot bolted to the floor and heart bolted in place, stopping as I processed his words, because he did _not _just say... I could hear the fracturing of my tiny little glass of everything I knew for a damned fact was true. Could feel the fracturing of their ignorance, of their servitude, of MiM's influence over them. I could hear the fracturing of every reason I had not to come here.

And I left before it could shatter, because I wasn't ready for that. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not...not yet. As I walked, I could hear a muttering of something, but didn't catch it, just walking down the hall and trusting that I'd find either my room or Pitch before I ran into another one of them...please. This was getting too insane, and they were _not _ready yet to learn about how their precious MiM wasn't who they thought he was. That he wasn't powerful. That he was a coward. If they learned about what he'd done to me...their poor little worlds would shatter...

...And they'd been too nice to me for me to do that to them.

_~Jack Frost~_

"You know how creepy this is, right? "I asked the others as she disappeared out of sight, Tooth and Sandy immediately darting out and up to North, me trailing behind slowly as he watched the spot she'd exited from, some unreadable expression on his normally carefree and downright jolly face. And I had to admit, after seeing what I saw, I wasn't exactly feeling into the swing of things, either. And that wasn't because the lord of all darkness was sleeping somewhere down the hall...

Alright, that might be some of it. But the rest was Astrid, definitely Astrid. I thought about her, about how she looked like every other teenager in the world. Pale, black, zip-up hoodie and black jeans a size too big on her, black sneakers, past-chin length, black hair that I noticed shimmered blue in certain lights kind of like how Pitch's was silver, dark-green eyes. Slight accent that I couldn't place, sounding normal but accentuating over certain words in a way that was familiar but unplacable all at the same time.

She was definitely different, though. No teenager was able to hold someone's stare like that, like how when you looked into her eyes you were kinda just stuck there because you were _curious_, because there were so many mysteries behind them that seemed so close, but were walled up behind barriers that were thicker than even mine had been. No teenager could be that powerful, just the memory of her fighting like it was a game, like that wasn't all of her power, sent a shiver down my spine and a tense feeling in my chest, like when you see something so mind-blowing that you can't comprehend it...and yet be so afraid of people.

After Tooth she looked like she was about to have a heart-attack, and even Sandy had said that she looked tense and closed-off. I mean, she was what, billions of years old and the Spirit of Tragedy? I couldn't exactly blame her for being anti-social, knowing that if spirits treated _me _bad, then I couldn't even imagine how it had been for her. At least I didn't outright rebel against Manny...

But that was the part that bothered me the most. Astrid seemed to have a knack for talking to me a lot, and yet I left realizing that I didn't know anything about her. She had that kind of way with everyone I guessed, closed off and overly-protective of her past...which made me wonder exactly what had happened between her and Manny. I mean, Astrid and he had a bit of a 'falling out', but she wasn't bad. That was the only thing I was sure of, that she wasn't bad.

I mean, she wouldn't have saved me or agreed to join us if she was bad! The only other problem was that then left us with wondering exactly what she _was_. She walked around like everything had to have barriers put around it, talked like whatever it was she was hiding was something we couldn't understand, and seemed so incapable of interacting with others that it made me seems like a baby-kissing, hand-shaking kinda guy.

And then there was whatever had happened between her and Bunny. I'd been meaning to ask him about it, but he'd been missing since she'd managed, somehow, to bring Pitch here. Now _that _was something else. While I still had recurring fears just at the memory of the guy, Astrid walked and talked around him like he was a good 'ol pal...and maybe he was. No, not just maybe. He definitely had to be. No one else could have gotten him to come here, no matter how pissed he'd seemed about it...

...But Pitch having a friend? That was almost as ridiculous as...well...as Jack Frost having a family. And look how that turned out...

"What are we going to do, North? The poor thing looks so excluded." Tooth said sadly in her delicate, pretty voice, getting my attention back to the conversation at hand. North looked at her and crossed his arms, that mischievous smile that made me proud back on his face as he shrugged.

"We know very little about Astrid, and she of us. And yet she helps us! Es very kind of her, and least we can do is try hardest to make her feel welcome!" North exclaimed, and I smiled, chuckling though I knew he knew that may be tougher than he thought. He looked like he was about to say something else, and then stopped, a look of confusion crossing his face as he aired a question that I'd asked myself more than once over the past few hours.

"...Vere es Bunny?"

_~Pitch Black~_

"The bloody hell you think yer doin', Pitch? Sneakin' up on me can get ya skinned before ya can say 'nightmare'." The ever-so-articulate rabbit warned me, giving me slight amusement at his obvious discomfort as I took another unwarranted step forward, keeping just out of reach of the moonlight that fell from the window at which the rabbit brooded, the hallway ending two doors back and extending on to a dead end where he sat on his haunches, looking out the large arched window.

"You look at that moon as if _he _could possibly give you any answers. "I mused, knowing Astrid would have my head if she knew where I was. Then again, with the steady rhythm of fears that pulsated through my mind, all distinctly hers, it seemed she had her hands full with the rest of the Guardians. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure why I was there in the first place, possibly out of sheer boredom, most likely out of curiosity. Possibly out of something else I couldn't place my finger on.

Whatever it was, I'd followed the fears of the Pooka, the fear of Astrid and me hurting any of his precious friends, the fear of him _needing _our help(by far the most pleasing one). But those were trivial, obvious. No, I was searching for one fear in particular, and while it was a long-shot, I might as well play a bit and see if it existed.

"He gave us the answer ta beat you, didn't he?" Aster said warningly, still not looking at me, his reflection glaring in the window. I laced my fingers together behind my back and smiled, relishing in the death-glare he shot me through the glass, eyes straying up to the full moon above us.

"And yet here I am, aren't I? Maybe your 'Manny' isn't as strong and all-powerful as you would like to think he is, hm?" I provoked, and saw the fur on his back bristle, which only coaxed me to smile wider. "Aw, what? I strike a nerve? You feel ashamed that you're going against him, or realizing that he didn't give you any guidance for this 'threat' because he didn't know how to deal with it?"

"Pitch, I swear to Manny-"

"What's he gonna do? Send another 300-year-old frost spirit to try and bat me away for another eight whole months? Please. If he could do anything serious about me then he would have by now, don't you think? Same goes for these little creatures you all are just _so adept _at fighting. You needed your worst enemy and a girl who the rest of the world either fears or ignores, who hates 'Manny' almost more than I do, if not more."

"Wasn't my idea! Bloody Frostbite thought that bringing Astrid along would be a good idea, and the others were too dull to pull back when she said she wouldn't do this without you. Now all we gotta do is wait fer her ta do what spirits like her do best." A twinge of anger spiked somewhere inside of me, and I grimaced a bit at it. I'd gotten too close to Astrid to think that those words would have wounded her more than any simple nightmare ever could.

"You say that as if you don't trust her. "I mused sarcastically, and he scoffed.

"I don't know 'er." He spat, and I looked down at him, frowning heavily. If only he could see how incredibly foolish he looked right now. I looked up at MiM. If only he could see how cruel he looked right now, watching this happening and doing nothing about it.

"Maybe not anymore..."I muttered quietly, seeing the rabbit's ear twitch as he asked,

"What was tha'?" I played dumb and raised my brow, 'hm'ing and saying lightly,

"Oh, nothing." I decided that it was time to leave before I actually did something that would unleash Astrid's wrath, and since the last time, the first time I'd tried to sway her to my side, I was quite keen on keeping her un-homicidal towards me. So, I turned, hands behind my back and thoroughly disappointed, when a question popped into my mind.

"I wonder," I mused, hearing him shift a bit behind me, looking up at the faint cobwebs in the ceiling, "What will you do if she _doesn't_ betray all of you?" It was silent for a moment, nothing but the constant hum of Astrid's fears, spiking a bit further down the hall...

_There._

I gave a bittersweet smile to myself in the darkness, knowing this discovery meant nothing to me and everything to her, though she'd never know of it. She'd be more mortified learning that I'd spoken to him. But it was there, faint and smothered, but there. I left without a word, half of my mind wondering what kind of fun I was going to have playing with that Pooka's fears, and the other half mulling over the one that had rung through at my own words. The fear that would make MiM cringe and Astrid smile, something she'd been lacking in lately. The fear I myself had wondered might be lost. The fear the Pooka must _hate._

I pulled at it, listening to it once before retiring to the darkened room I'd been given, finally locating it.

_What if she_ isn't_bad? _

And then, somewhere lower.

_What if Manny doesn't know?_ He does know, Aster. He knows very well. And that's what makes it so terrible.


	7. Cinnamon Rolls and Small Talks

_-Hey guys, just a quick side note: Fanfiction's being a bit odd lately, so if it's difficult to find this story just message me and I'll send you the link. Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

_ The air around was frigid, colder than usual temperatures would allow, even in this part of Russia, the white puffy clouds above not even letting a bit of warm sunlight down onto the planet. Shadows danced across the ground as I sat in the snow, going up almost above my legs and creating what felt like a safe little enclave as I looked down, eyes watching as the little sparkles danced across the untouched snow, a few little snowflakes picking up and shifting with every slight breeze._

_ I just sat silently, arms wrapped around my chest and wondering what would happen if I let go, if my chest would break open the way that I was afraid it might, wondering what would be left inside. That was another thing he hadn't told me. I wasn't alive anymore, but I wasn't dead either, so what was inside my chest? Was it a heart? Was it still beating? I was too afraid to feel and check, too afraid to get answers._

_ I tried to close my eyes but I couldn't, tried to breathe but even that was becoming hard. Tried to forget, but I couldn't. I didn't need to forget _him, _just what day it was. Just the number of birthdays that had gone by when he didn't remember that he'd ever had a sister to share them with. Birthdays where I could remember painting his face for the ceremonies and him painting my arms, the smell of woodshavings from a freshly-made boomerang. A small tree with pink flowers, and a larger tree next to it with blue ones._

_ It had been a mistake to go there, to leave it there even though I hadn't seen him, even though it had taken all of fifteen years to make, starting over if I nicked the wood or messed up an engraving. It just _hurt_. Hurt thinking of how he wouldn't know how it got there, or if he even went to those trees anymore, if he even remembered...he hadn't on that day, looking confused and lost, as if he didn't belong there, walking away. Away from the trees. Through me. _Through _me..._

_ "I'd say sitting here like that can make you catch a cold, but I'm not entirely sure you can get those." I looked up, slightly caught off-guard by his voice, looking up and seeing him standing right in the center of the snow with no footprints in sight, just a few feet away from me. I didnt' answer, just shrugged and looked away._

_ And then it was silent. The wind blew my bangs in my face and I suddenly, out of all the trivial things I could have thought about, wished I hadn't cut them so sloppily, slightly longer on one side than the other and a few strands occasionally poking out that were shorter than the rest. And then I remembered how it didn't really matter, how it wouldn't ever grow out again anyway, and that caused a sudden pain to go through my chest, cracking it a bit and making me squeeze harder to keep it all together._

_ There was the sound of crunching snow, and for a moment I thought he was leaving, and a part of me was surprised about how much I didn't want him to. Then there was a settling sound, one that made me look up and pause, something inside me wanting to be afraid, something inside me wanting to run and hide, something inside me wanting to understand that this man was supposed to be my enemy._

_ But as he sat a few feet away from me, a purposeful distance, and rested the side of his face in his hand as if he'd wanted to be here all along, as if he had nothing better to do, that something inside me quieted. I while he looked away, I looked at him, and he either didn't notice or didn't care. I felt that I shouldn't have been as comfortable as I felt around him, but against that feeling was silenced._

_"...Aren't you cold?" He looked at me, bemused, and his gaze went skeptically to what I wore. The same brown pants a size too large that I'd made myself. The top that covered my chest with thin shoulder straps and a floral pattern in the side. My back, stomach, and arms were exposed, and it was quite odd to be sitting in the snow and feeling only a mild chill._

_"When they invent proper clothing, I'm forcing it upon you. I can deal with an immortal teenager, but not one that's constantly sniffling." He mused, nose up-turned in distaste that wasn't very offending, more amusing than anything. And then we sat again in silence, me looking at him as he sighed and looked out again into the flat landscape all around us, looking both bored and content at the same time, golden-silver eyes narrowed and mouth in an easy frown._

_ The cold wind blew again, a bit stronger this time._

"Hey Astrid!" An excited voice slowly pulled me from sleep, feeling like I was fighting through cobwebs as I focused my mind back into the sudden present, yawning and mildly upset that I'd been woken up. It hadn't been often that I had good dreams. But once I recognized the voice calling me, I let that bit of irritation fade away and mumbled,

"Frostie, how early to you wake up?" I heard his easy laugh and I opened one eye, yawning and looking around me, wondering how I'd managed to fall asleep on a windowsill, barely remembering sitting here last night when I'd fled North, that memory leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"C'mon, Tooth made breakfast! It's all sugar-free, but if you get past the cardboard taste it's not half-bad!"Jack exclaimed, way too hyper for this early in the morning, however early it was. All that I knew was that there were still hints of orange and pink in the sky, and that if I didn't get off this sill soon then Jack was going to rip me off it, practically bouncing on his feet and smile splitting his face. I mumbled something incoherent and slid off, standing up and scratching the back of my head.

"Ya know, I came here to help you guys out, and no one's said anything about actually _doing something _yet." I mused mainly to myself as I followed Jack down the hall, still shaking some sleep off, which was much more difficult when I hadn't been jolted from sleep by blinding fear and asphyxiation. Part of me was watching out for Pitch, for that familiar presence, and a small worry twisted in my gut. It was normal for him to want distance from the Guardians, but I hadn't seen him at all last night, and I'd covered almost the entire damned building. Either he found his room or...

I shook my head, telling myself that Pitch was an adult a few hundred years older than me, that I shouldn't be worrying about if he found a damn room or not. Hell, I slept on a windowsill and actually had one of the better nights of sleep I'd gotten this month... But another part of me was maybe, possibly a teensy bit worried about how he was coping. Pitch had a better handle on...pretty much everything better than I did, but all the same I was hoping that nothing had happened between him and the Guardians in the span of a few hours.

"Huh? Oh yeah, North's in charge of all that 'business' stuff."Jack explained, and I raised a slightly amused eyebrow at him, hearing the exhaustion in his voice like a child talking about an overbearing parent.

"And what are you in charge of? Snowball fights?" I joked lightly, and Jack turned around, arms slung across the staff that was balanced over his shoulders, offering a sly smile and shrugging. I rolled my eyes, groaning as we made our way to the overlook, Jack moving to one of the doors against the walls near the back, next to the hallway ahead of us. "I swear Jack, if you even _think _about-"

I cut myself off as he opened the door to what I assumed was the kitchen, standing in the doorway next to him as the smells of cinnamon, hot chocolate, butter, and peppermint instantly hit us and made me actually _hungry_, something I hadn't been in thousands of years. Probably because I'd never smelled food this damn good. And the moment would have been awesome, seeing North sneaking sugar into the hot chocolate and cinnamon roles while Tooth directed little mini-fairies out to get certain things that I assumed were teeth, Sandy sitting on a stool at the island where chairs were set up, face-first into the table and snoring silently, even Aster sitting there and looking rather uncomfortable, frowning and catching my eye for a moment before going back to the egg in his hands.

Except there was one thing a little bit off. One thing that I had no idea how to respond to except with stunned and indifferent silence. Sitting in one of the chairs across from Sandy and diagonal from Aster sat Pitch. Frowning and glaring. Probably because he was tied to the chair with dreamsand, locking his arms to his body and his abdomen to the back of the chair.

"Oh, hi Astrid, hey Jack! Come have a seat, I've got some fresh cinnamon roles all whipped up for you guys! North, you have the extra?" Tooth asked politely, as if nothing were wrong.

"Sure!"Jack exclaimed, flying over, me still standing stone-still and looking at Pitch, whose gaze fell to me, a tight frown on his face and eyes narrowed. And it should have bothered me a whole lot more... But c'mon. This was funny as hell.

"I'll have some." I said nonchalantly, raising a hand and sitting next to Pitch, whose gaze tightened as I tapped the table with my fingers calmly, chin resting on the heel of my palm. North spun around grandly, almost knocking Tooth upside the head with the tray had it not been for her darting suddenly to the side to talk to one of her faeries in that quick tone she'd used for me last night, North's face lighting up as he exclaimed,

"Breakfast! Es very good, no? Yes!" He slammed down the tray in the center of the island, Jack grabbing two from the towering, gooey pile of cinnamon roles and frosting. Pitch was digging holes in the side of my head at this point, and this was becoming just too good to stop now. Yeah, I was pissed he was tied up...but to be honest, I felt that he might have deserved it, even just a little. And it was kind of payback for snapping at me yesterday.

I reached forward and took one, the syrup sticking to my fingers as Sandy shook himself awake, dreamsand retrieving one for himself as North slammed himself down next to Aster, who jumped and had to do a series of impressive juggling maneuvers not to drop the egg, sending a glare North's way. And then North took a cinnamon role. And I paused, mine in my hands, looking around.

And suddenly, I felt almost out-of-place, but not in an identity-clash kind of way. Out-of-place in the way that this was...bizzarly..._normal_. I shifted a bit in my seat, watching as North beamed and ate two rolls in a matter of seconds, Jack frosting part of his when it became too hot for his mouth and Sandy beaming at him as if to say 'good idea!' and holding his out, Jack frosting his as well. Watched as Tooth sat next to Sandy, if you could call hovering energetically 'sitting'. Watched as Aster complained about something to North.

I tensed a little bit more, because once again I was questioning whether this was a good idea or not. Because once again, they were so confusing. They were sitting here, talking happily as if nothing were out-of-the-norm, conversing and smiling and joking around, as if the Spirit of Tragedy and the Nightmare King weren't sitting right there, the elephants in the room, the black sheep. It was just too _normal._ I didn't know how to _do _normal, and yet there they were, acting like one big happy family.

And then there was Pitch and me, and I couldn't have felt more out-of-place. Why weren't they being confrontational? Why weren't they being hostile? Why weren't they removed and whispering and tense? Why were they so relaxed? Spirits didn't _do _this...

North's words from last night rang through my head, and for a moment I looked at him, and he caught my eye. I was about to tense and look away, but instead he beamed like we were old friends and exclaimed(I was now aware that everyone other than Sandy was a morning person here),

"Astrid! How was night sleep? Good I hope? Find room, yes?" I paused, feeling almost bad that I hadn't even bothered to find my room. And feeling bad about something was definitely not something I was used to, not knowing whether to suppress it or let it go, just pausing an awkward moment and wishing he wasn't so damn nice, because it made it hard to explain what really happened. Wished he hadn't given me a room out of the kindness and mild insainness of his heart, because now I felt the urge to actually sleep there...

"Oh for the love of..."Pitch saved me, sounding exhausted and furious, turning to me as I gazed up at him with a nonchalant look, raising my eyebrows, "Release me from this immediately!" I paused, wondering if I should, and almost before I was finished asking myself that deciding that no, I shouldn't. I took a strange pleasure in his uncomfortableness. I raised up the cinnamon role and asked,

"I don't know what you're talking about. Cinnamon role? This shit's pretty damn good, kinda makes me wish I had to eat to live."

"Thank you!" Tooth exclaimed, as if it were the best compliment I could have given her. I nodded to her, offering an awkward smile and not sure how to respond to 'thank you's, as if I ever got any.

"You know bloody well what I mean!" Pitch exclaimed, and I frowned at him, waving the cinnamon role in his face and prodding,

"C'mon, I know you want one. Just reach over and get one." Pitch paused, mouth half-open, and then closed it and gave me a steady glare of the very definition of hatred. And I literally almost had an aneurysm holding back laughter and keeping my face straight.

"I hate you." He deadpanned, eyes narrowed as I shrugged him off and replied easily, biting into the cinnamon roll and damn-near sighing in how freaking delicious this thing was, wondering why I'd stopped eating,

"I hate you, too." I looked up as I swallowed, and paused a moment, seeing the Guardian's faces, and for a moment feeling worried. Tooth and Aster looked surprised, as if something I'd said was unusual, both having stopped what they were doing and making me shrink back a bit. Sandy was looking from me to Pitch, an unreadable expression on his face that I quickly got distracted from by North and Jack.

Both were shaking, and for a moment I thought they might be crying, but instead Jack snorted and North let out a quick huff of laughter, both convulsing as they tried to keep it back. I raised my eyebrows and pulled my arms a bit closer to me, asking quietly and uncomfortably,

"Um...am I missing another social-interaction thing?"

"Wh-wha? Oh no!"Jack exclaimed, managing to get himself half under-control, waving me off as North suddenly exclaimed in a voice so loud it made me jump,

"Es funny! I never hear person talk to Pitch in such a way! Quite the funny pair you two are!" Pitch and I both choked at the same time, Pitch on air and me on the cinnamon roll left in my throat. I coughed, leaning over and trying to gain my bearings back as Tooth made a surprised noise and North exclaimed, "Quick! I vill administer Heimlich-"

Pitch and I simultaneously, for fear of our ribcages, exclaimed,

"No!" North looked surprised as I swallowed the cinnamon roll and took in a deep breath, leaning back and pointed to Pitch and me.

"We're not a 'pair', trust me. I hate this bastard." I explained, pointing to him as he gave a curt nod and said properly,

"Likewise."

They all just looked at us like we were aliens with two heads, eyes confused and brows raised, Aster muttering something about 'freaks' and going back to painting the egg, me pretending like it didn't hurt a little as I finally relaxed a bit. Now that was a reaction I was used to. I took the silence to take another bit of the roll and then swallow properly, looking up and asking finally,

"So, what's your plan for these creepy-crawlies, huh? Jack said something about actually catching one? What good's that gonna do ya?" North recovered first, raising his eyebrows and a finger as he explained,

"Yes! If we can catch one, possibly we can understand what they are in first place. I have many books and ways of determining many sciency wishy-washy things, and am confident I can identify what makes them tick and, possibly, who would send such creatures into cities!" I leaned back and crossed my legs, wrapping an arm around the back of the chair and asking,

"Why do we need to know what they are if we know that Pitch and I can drive through them no problem?" North was about to say something, but a surprising voice spoke up instead, all eyes turning to Aster as he said,

"Fer once, I agree with the sheila. Why go through that trouble if they can just wipe the things out and be done with it?" I looked over at him, and I didn't know how I should feel towards that. It was such a small thing, so trivial... But it was the only thing I could remember him saying about me that wasn't...I don't know, hurtful. And while I'd trained myself not to get my hopes up...it wasn't a bad thing. I was only used to bad things.

He didn't make eye contact, and I only looked away from him when North began speaking again.

"Yes, Astrid and Pitch can fight all they want the shadowy creatures, but be do not know _who _is making, and if they can keep making until there are too many for even them to handle." North explained, and I rolled my eyes, smirking at the challenge and saying,

"I'd like to see whoever it is even _try._"

"I agree with the brat. I've yet to come across anything the two of us can't at least horribly mutilate." Pitch said airily, the others drawing back just a bit as I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, even _I _know that was less-than comforting." I muttered, and Pitch raised his eyebrows, saying in a dramatically sarcastic manner,

"Oh, was it? Maybe I'd be in a bit of a better mood if you UNTIED ME FROM THIS FOUL SUBSTANCE!" I gave him a mute look and deadpanned,

"Fine, no need to yell. You could have just asked." When I heard Jack and North's quiet snorts of laughter, I felt an odd little bit of almost satisfaction in my chest, quickly smothering it down as I flicked a finger and unformed smoke shot from it, twirling dramatically down and slicing right through the rope of dreamsand that tied everything, the entire thing instantly shrivelling and falling to the floor, writhing and dissipating.

Pitch sniffed indignantly and rubbed his wrists, glaring at me as I shot him a sly smirk, leaning back a bit more.

"How'd you do that? I thought only Pitch's nightmare sand could do that to the dream sand." Tooth asked, and I tensed a moment, waiting for the sound of accusation in her voice, but...it never came. In fact, she did sound honestly curious, and again North's words rung through my head, forcing me to mentally shake myself to answer her question.

"Well, uh...I guess Pitch can fight the dream sand because his sand is just a corrupted form of Sandy's, and corruption is a form of tragedy, which is kinda what this stuff is." I explained, bringing the smoke back up to swirl once around my finger before dissipating, adding just in case, "I don't recommend touching it. Lives up to its purpose, if you know what I mean."

"Which purpose, yours or Manny's?" I tensed, muscles tightening as I braced my body, the pain ebbing through me in a way that I'd gotten so used to that it was almost second-nature at this point. The words weren't what hurt, not really. I'd been told worse by others, much worse. It was the voice that spoke them, because as hard as I tried to distinguish the two...

"Wait, so does that mean your smoke can't fight Pitch's sand?" Jack asked, seemingly missing Aster's comment as I looked up, grinning despite myself.

"Well, if you want to get into how I kicked his ass this one time-"

"If you're so keen on bringing one of those creatures into this workshop," Pitch deliberately cut me off, making me roll my eyes, "How do you think you're going to contain it? Those things aren't exactly cage-worthy things, nor do I imagine any of your little tinker-toys will hold one. They may have seemed weak, but they can shift in and out of different forms. You'd need something rather tightly-sealed, and even then you don't know the limits of their strength."

I looked up at Pitch and couldn't quite grasp the shock and relief that tried to balance each other within me, seeing him looking at the Guardians almost, _almost _calmly, still talking down to them but at the same time actually discussing this as if he wanted to be a part of it. I just couldn't believe that this was the same Pitch as yesterday who almost ripped my head off for taking him here, and now here he was actually adding input...

Well, it was better than him trying to kill them at least. I had to take what I could get.

"Ah! I have thought during last night, and have wonderful plan! But will discuss later with you, for now all we can do is wait for one of them to tip off Sandy's dreamsand and then we go and catch it! Will be great success!" North exclaimed, but part of me was still a bit nervous, frowning and poking at the cinnamon role in front of me.

"Wait? That's the best plan you've got? How do you even know that his sand will react to those things?"I asked, pulling a leg up and wrapping an arm around it.

"Going out fragmented to try and find one wont work, especially with you and Pitch being the only ones who can fight them. Earlier, before we found you and Jack, Bunny ran into one of them and barely got out before we showed up. He was following Sandy's dream trail when it happened, that's how we know, because didn't you say that one of them touched the sand and made it act all funny, Aster?" Tooth pipped up, and I looked over at him.

He seemed less-than-enthusiastic about Tooth bringing it up, shrugging and frowning as he focused on touching up a pattern on the egg, my own eyes straying to the paint brush, a jolt of pain shooting through me as I reached up and gripped my upper arms out of reflex, forcing myself to look back up at his face as he said in a nonchalant, brushing-off tone,

"Nothin' I couldn' handle, but those things got a nasty vibe 'bout 'em, turned the sand all ashy-grey kinda. I was just 'bout ta show 'em how ta properly kick arse when you guys burst in." If I laugh right now, that's going to be a very, very bad thing. Even if it sounds like total bullshit. Even if it sounds like an old braggart.

"Please! Bunny was shaking like little babushka! Was hilarious!" North exclaimed, and as Jack smirked Bunny glared, pointing at North with the paintbrush as I sighed, turning as Pitch stood up. Everyone looked over between Bunny muttering angrily at North, and Pitch said in a tired and concealed tone,

"Well, if you all are going to act like buffoons now, please do alert me when that little man finds yet another fault in his pretty little sand. Or don't. I honestly couldn't care less either way." And with that he stepped back into the shadows and, in the blink of an eye, disappeared. Everyone else was silent, me finding nothing out-of-the-ordinary about it and tearing off bits of the cinnamon roll, popping them into my mouth.

"...He's just as swell of a guy as tha' last time we saw 'im." I heard Aster mutter as Jack began to talk with Tooth, North standing after awhile and him and Sandy clearing out the dishes. Before I could think about who I was talking to, I said in a light tone,

"Hey, at least he participated, which I assume is what that rope was for. He's into this more than I expected." I felt his eyes on me and I looked over cautiously, ready for the hostility and anger that usually accompanied them, trying to shove all of the clustered thoughts and fears away from me, half to clear my own mind and half to let Pitch have some peace for once.

But what I got was better. Not good, but better. Curiosity, suspicious curiosity with one brow raised and a large ear twitching.

"_That _was 'into this'?"He asked, and I shrugged, heart beating fast because I knew how conversations usually ended with us, but didn't know what to do when they weren't all anger and mocking and pain. Because this whole situation was bizzar and I was trying not to be afraid because I could tell how stressed Pitch seemed to be, but this was waay out of my comfort zone.

"Well, yeah. You think he couldn't break out of that sand on his own? He was just being an ass to me s'all. He _let _you guys drag him here, and then actually gave some input. Maybe he's warming up to the idea...or bored. Probably bored. In fact, I'm positive it's because he's bored." I mused, nodding to myself and popping another bit of the roll into my mouth as I carefully watched Aster's expressions. At first he seemed unsure, like he was seeing if my words were true and if I were lying...

And then I realized that I must look this way to a lot of people. It was kind of nerve-wracking.

Finally, though, and to my utter shock, he nodded.

"Yeah, just keep 'im from gettin' entertained then, sheila." He muttered, and then went back to painting the egg as if nothing had happened. And to him, nothing really had. He had a civil conversation with someone he probably still thought was insane.

But to me, I felt a little crack of hope splinter down through all my pain, and as much as I told myself not to have it, that things couldn't possibly get better...it was nice. And nothing had been nice for a long, long time. And this almost made me think that maybe, possibly, some things could change... I shook myself, though the hope was still there somewhere inside of me, something lighter inside that I wasn't used to and therefore refused to acknowledge or name...

But everything seemed a little less overwhelming as I stood up and walked out, nodding to Jack and catching a smile from Tooth as I exited, finding my way to the overlook.

"I don't know what to make of them."I sighed, stopping in front of the railing and looking at the globe.

"They're imbeciles." Pitch mused from behind me, and yet I couldn't wipe the smile from my face.

"Yeah..."I muttered, tearing the cinnamon roll in half and turning around, offering it to him with a small smirk that I hoped he didn't take for the naive giddiness that the others seemed to radiate. He just paused a moment and looked down, eyes flickering from me to the cinnamon roll, a far-off look flashing across his face before he took it and grimaced at the stickiness of the syrup.

"But they're not like the others, are they?"I asked, and he raised an eyebrow, pretending to be reoccupied with his disgustion of baked goods covered in frosting and cinnamon syrup.

"Hm, yes, I suppose. _Overly friendly _imbeciles, then." He mused, and I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the railing.

"...It's kind of..."I tried, looking up through the hole above the globe, head tilted back and sighing, frowning as I tried to place all of the different emotions going on inside my head, still trying to grasp this situation I was in that happened rather suddenly and strangely. Yesterday morning I was being the friendly neighborhood 'most-hated-spirit-in-the-world', and today I was helping my arch enemies lapdogs, made friends with a frost spirit, drug Pitch into it, actually kind of started to like the people, had a decent conversation with Aster, and...and I'd met the only spirits who were giving me a chance.

That realization hit hard, and I felt my chest seize up. Because wasn't that what they were doing?...They knew nothing about me, and so they were treating me that way...and it was a hell of a lot better than anyone had ever treated me before.

"...Confusing." Pitch finished for me, and I only offered him a nod.

"I had a good dream last night. I think I might like this place." I added nonchalantly, not expecting a response and not getting one. At least, not to my question.

"How on Earth they managed to make something more infuriating than them I have no idea. How can you eat this and not get your hands filthy?" Pitch demanded, seeing my now-empty, clean hands as I pushed myself up onto the railing, kicking up some smoke and ready to leave, throwing back,

"Easy. I wiped my hands off on your robe when you weren't looking."

"I hate you!"

_-Two Hours Later-_

The air outside was a constant chill, never wavering warmer or colder, not even a slight wind. It gave clean-feeling breaths and a certain feeling of freedom, despite the fact the entire building was on a precipiece on the side of the mountain, built into the massive structure with different paths leading away from it and into other mountains, a massive valley bridging them down below. And granted, it could make a person feel pretty small, but in the suffocatingly cluttered atmosphere of the Workshop, it was almost like a reprieve for me.

I leaned back and took in a massive gulp of air, kicking absentmindedly at the dome on which I sat, the openeing behind me. Jack flew in a circle and iced over a part of the mountain in front of us, the blue-and-white current running through the staff making me raised my eyebrows in surprise, leaning forward a bit as he flew back to inspect his work.

"Hm, nice one Snowflake. Now if only those creatures didn't make you wet yourself." I mused, Jack turning and sticking his tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes and felt that easy smile form on my face, the one that Jack seemed to be able to pull from all the Guardians. Guardian of Fun, huh? Maybe MiM really did get one right, afterall. "Careful, or your face'll stick that way." I called as he flew closer, stopping when he could crouch in front of me and hold the staff across his kneese, leaning forward.

"And I'll _still _be better-looking than Pitch." Jack joked, and I did that 'shoulder-shrug' that people do when they're holding back laughter but can't exactly catch it in time, shaking my head and pointing to him.

"I'd like to say that he hasn't always been this stone-faced, but in the billions of years that I've known him his looks haven't changed once. At least aging isn't hard on him." I joked, and Jack smiled, brow furrowing as he asked, interested in a way that only a kid could look,

"You've known Pitch for that long? Like, since you became a Spirit?" I nodded carelessly and leaned my elbows on my knees, looking back as some yeti began yelling at an elf as I said without much importance,

"Since the very first day. Couldn't shake the guy. Kinda persistant, but hey, I kinda owe him one." I raised an amused eyebrow as the elf scrambled across the workshop, covered in red paint and leaving little footprints everywhere, yetis bowling over each other to try and catch it.

"Owe him one? How?" I heard Jack ask, me smirking as I watched the scene below me, saying without much thought,

"I met him once and tried to kill him. No really on purpose, it was just kind of a hectic time for me, ya know? All I knew was that he was supposed to be this wicked bad guy, and I kind of over-reacted. Next time I saw him he was impressed with my power and asked if I wanted to join him." I almost cracked up as the elf skidded past Aster, who was walking into the workshop from a hallway to see what was going on, only to have a red print splattered across his legs.

"...So wait, you tried to kill him and he asked you to join him. So did you?" Jack asked, confused as I looked over at him, for the first time actually registering the conversation and mildly surprised at the fact that I didn't mind sharing this much with Jack. I looked at him a moment, the white-haired frost spirit, and figured it was probably just because he was so much more like me than anyone had ever been besides Pitch, and that he was just so damn easy to talk to. Things didn't feel forced, and he wasn't constantly trying to hug me like the others.

But still, I was a bit aprehensive as I spoke next, measuring my words and wondering how he would take them, wondering if he really was as different as I hoped he was.

"Nah, I didn't. That's why I owe him. Because he let me say 'no', he let me have a choice in a time where nothing was my choice." I muttered, hearing a clashing of something behind me and a bunch of voices, more focused on this conversation than whatever was happening below. Jack was sitting there and listening, no interruptions or judging looks, prodding me on a bit more, wondering what was safe enough to share.

"I mean, I didn't _choose _what happened to me. Didn't chose to be immortal. Didn't chose to be taken from my family. No one asked me if it was okay to be some pawn in a game I had no interest in." I muttered, frowning and glad that the moon wasn't out, that the sun shone and illuminated a familiar crystal pattern over the snow below us.

"None of us really did, did we? Manny just kind of chose us. I mean, hey though, there could be worse things." Jack tried, looking up at the sky as I looked at him, observing, the conversation so easy that the next words came out without me thinking.

"MiM made me in the beginning, when he was trying his hardest to set the game in his corner that he'd do pretty much anything... He did a little bit more to me than to you guys." My voice trailed off at the end, and Jack suddenly looked at me, our eyes catching. His wide, curious, worried. Mine far-off, knowing I'd said too much and yet I didn't feel all too bad about it...

"There you two are!" I heard behind me, and I turned around, seeing Tooth fluttering up through the hole and grinning at us like she'd just been nominated tooth-inspector-of-the-decade.

"Hey Tooth, what's up?"Jack asked curiously, and she exclaimed,

"Sandy's sand picked up on a creature! We've got to hurry though, they move fast!"

"Ha, not faster than me!"Jack exclaimed cockily, jumping to his feet as, from below us in the workshop, Aster shouted out,

"Don' be so cocky, Frostbite! We all know who's gonna get there first!" Jack shot up to the hole and smirked down, something glittering in his eyes as he called,

"Hey! That another challenge, Fuzzy?" I surpressed laughter at 'Fuzzy', reminding myself to use that one later as North walked up into the scene, Tooth and I exchanging looks that for the first time were on the same page, knowing the boys were about to get into something.

"Ha! As I recall, last time _I _was one who won race in collecting the teeth, no? Yes!" He bragged, Sandy making some symbols above his head that I couldn't read. North watched them and then threw his hands up, exclaiming loud enough to make me almost fall off the roof, "WONDERFUL! Sandy, you are right, we should have difinitive race to see who es fastest out of Guardians, no? Yes! Astrid and Pitch, too! Will be great fun!"

"Race?"I asked skeptically, Tooth giggling excitedly and saying,

"Oh, wont this just be great? The last time we raced like this we saved the children of the world from not believing!"

"And now we're doing it to stroke egos?" I asked, but Tooth was already zipping away, over to a cluster of her fairies as the guys shouted below.

"Yer on, Frostbite!" Aster shouted, and tapped the floor twice with his foot, a hole opening up below him that he quickly jumped in to, all the while North rushing his yetis and shouting about getting some sleigh ready, Jack curling up and then shooting up into the air, passing me in a shot of cold air, calling back playfully,

"C'mon Astrid! All those years gonna slow you down?" I stood up, shouting back at him,

"Hey junior, anyone ever told you to respect your elders?!"

"Please, Jack Frost respecting anyone? Don't make me laugh." Pitch mused beside me as I looked after Jack and Tooth flying away, crossing my arms and shaking my head, amused. These were the Guardians, the ones who were supposed to be protecting children? Hell, they acted more like children than children did!

"Can you believe this? A race, as if any of them think they'd be faster than me." I shook my head, smirking... I looked to my side when I got no response, seeing Pitch gone and his nightmare just pawing at the ground, throwing his head in the direction that he'd gone in, my little butterfly still accompanying the horse. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened, looking out and shouting out-loud,

"Hey! Asshole! That's called cheating!"

"I don't follow rules, darling. Keep up?" I heard his disembodied voice coax, and I smirked, fists clenching at the challenge.

"Fine, wanna play that way? Play that way, old man!" I shouted, and kicked up some smoke, jumping on and shooting off through the air, the nightmare neighing loudly and excitedly next to me as I rocketed through the air, the wind hitting my face and making the skin icy cold and raw, something bubbling up inside my chest and stomach that made me smile wider, made me almost want to _laugh._

And maybe I should have known that this was a defining moment. Maybe, if I'd taken the time to think about it, I'd have realized that this meant something, this smile, this feeling, this race. Maybe I'd have been terrified. Maybe I'd have been happy. Maybe I'd have stopped or gone faster. Maybe I'd have realized that I was having fun, being happy, in a way that I'd never been before.

But I didn't take time to stop and think about it. If I'd done that, I might have lost.

And I was _not _losing to Pitch. Or any of them, for that matter.


	8. Racing You

_-The next few chapters may take longer to come out simply because I've changed up a few things and have a writing camp I will be attending, but it should not take any longer than three days to update. Leave me a review if you're liking or not liking this, I can take any criticism! Afterall, this is for you enjoyment. So, Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

In hindsight, actually asking Sandman _where _the creature was might have been a better idea than just rushing off, spending the first few minutes trying to decide where I'd be if I was one of those creatures. Luckily, I'd found the little guy about an hour into the mess and managed to decipher Russia, Volgograd, and something that I thought was 'duck' but might have also been alleyway.

I now flew fast, hoping the others weren't farther along than I was, thinking that if I actually won this thing then maybe I'd be able to take solace in beating the Guardians at something. At this time in the world, it was later afternoon in Russia, meaning that I had an advantage over them that only Pitch and I shared. For him, it just came with the job. Gotta be able to see in the dark to hide under beds. For me it was by association with the creep, with most of his little visits being during the night time and me deciding that it was high-time I stop almost peeing myself when he popped out of the shadows, training myself to be able to see him.

The slight darkness dimmed all the alleyways below me, about fourteen miles from the city I was supposed to make my way towards, the air fridgid and snow in heavy blankets below me, the only stark contrast that the creature would have against the pale white. Speaking of pale white...

"Don't even think about it, Frostie!"I shouted, and heard a surprised noise behind me, jumping up just as a snowball flew under me, landing back on the smoke cloud and turning around to face Jack, who looked surprised and almost fell out of the air. I smirked at him and said, arms crossed as I flew backwards, "I've known Pitch for billions of years, _no one_ can sneak up on me anymore."

Jack gave a mischevious shrug and smirk, asking as he twirrled his staff in his hand, jumping to and fro on the slight breeze that carried him,

"Can you blame a guy for trying?"

"Actually yes, yes I- FROST!" I exclaimed suddenly, yelping as, with one swift and blinding motion as I looked up at the sky just once, just to check how far we were until night, the smoke beneath me froze into a slick sheet of ice. I heard his laugh as the sheet dropped down from under me, sending me plummeting downwards so suddenly that, just like when I'd watched that kid play that video game, I had no time to react or catch myself.

"Dropping in!" I heard a thick-accented voice call, just before I slammed back-first into something soft and wooden, the impact slightly jolting and taking a second to recover from, my head bouncing off the floor of whatever I'd landed on and my feet tangled in what felt like a step or a bench seat. I groaned, head splitting for a second in pain before it eased with unnatural speed, the sound of reigns snapping making my open my eyes and look up.

Above me the sky flew by, stars and purples and pinks drifting by easily as the floor beneath me bobbed slowly up and down. Confused and slightly disoriented, I frowned and sat up, rubbing the back of my head and turning around to see exactly where I was and what the hell I'd landed on.

The moment I sat up, I experianced something I hadn't felt since I'd gotten my first good look of the workshop. It made me stop, take a breath in, eyes wide and mouth half-open, goosebumps rising on my arms and the back of my neck. Something bigger than nostalgia filled up my chest, the breath I'd taken in leaving until there was no air left in my lungs, slowly standing up and grabbing ahold of the front of what I'd landed in, wind whipping past my face as I just stared, breathless, at eight reindeer before me, massive and rearing dangerously and fiercely.

I was on the sleigh. _The _sleigh. Flying through the snow, and a feeling of absolute wonder washing over me until I forgot that I'd been created before this was even a thing of legend, forgetting that I wasn't a child anymore, forgetting that I was supposed to hate anything. Because I don't care how badass you are, you _love _the sleigh.

"Impressive, no?" North asked slyly, and I didn't even look at him as I nodded, looking around as a mild snow began to fall in Jack's wake, seeing a flash of blue up ahead as he advanced. I watched, part of me wanting to hurry up and get ahead of him, the other half saying that _I was riding in the god damned sleigh._

"Alright, gotta admit, you may be kind of crazy, but this is pretty awesome." I admitted, looking around at the style of the sleigh, a red exterior with wooden seats inside, wing-like extensions more towards the back with actual sleigh-like pads on the bottom for landings, intricate golden designs in the sides and on the spaces between steps.

"Everyone loves the sleigh!" North bragged, me looking over at him as he puffed out his chest and smiled broadly, face lit up with something like pride, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling at how adorably Santa-Clause he looked. This big Russian guy with the fiercest tattoos I'd ever seen, smiling like a little kid who got an 'A' on his art project. And though I wasn't supposed to like this guy, I couldn't help but be a little amused by him, finding it easier to be around him when he wasn't trying to crush my ribs in a massive bear-hug.

"Yeah, well don't tell anyone, alright?"I mused, looking forward and wondering where the nightmare and butterfly were, having sent them out to find where Pitch was, and then report back to me. I at least wanted to beat him, if no one else. "I've kinda got an image to keep up."

"Ah yes, brooding and secrative spirit from ancient times disguised as angsty teenager. I like, adds depth to character. Although, is hard to see what is under and hiding, no?" North said, and I gave him a confused look, raising an eyebrow as I tried to decipher what he'd tried to say at the end. It took me awhile, but finally I raised my eyebrows and asked,

"You mean 'see what's hidden underneath'?" North raised his eyebrows and said matter-of-factly,

"Yes! Es what I said, no?"

"No. Not even remotely close. But you get an 'A' for effort." I mused, shrugging in acceptance as I spied the nightmare and butterfly dart towards us from the horizon. I smiled at them and jumped up onto the front railing, sticking my index and thumb into my mouth and giving a high-pitched whistle their way, signalling for them to hurry up. If Jack was already in front, Pitch was even further.

They got to us in a matter of second, a black sandy mane shaking in anticipation and impatiently hoofing the ground.

"Alright, alright, hold on! Damn, your as impatent as Pitch." I scolded, jumping forward and grabbing onto its back, pulling myself up and lacing one hand through the silt-like locks.

"Astrid." North got my attention again, me turning my head back to him curiously. He raised his eyebrows knowingly at me and said, holding his hands up, reigns in them,

"You remember what I said before, no? All of us can understand hard pasts, no matter how one wishes to section it up." I paused, and gave him a bittersweet smirk. Because I really did think that, under different circumstances, in a different lifetime, I'd have liked this guy. He was big, sweet, adorably naive. And it almost made me regret that I'd gone the path that I did. Almost.

"You mean 'no matter how you slice it'?"I offered, and he gave a light-hearted shrug and a simple smile, and I shook my head. "Thanks, North, but...I don't think you guys would like my past very much. Thanks anyway. Oh, and try to keep up." With that, I turned, lacing both hands into the nightmare's mane as it suddenly took off, shooting like a bullet across the sky as the reindeer kicked up in startles response, the wind whipping past me as I caught one word, the rest falling away behind me.

"...Possibly..." And part of me felt bad. Felt really bad. Because that guy was nice. Really nice. They all were. And I did not want to like them, but part of me was starting to. That was the part that felt bad. I was starting to like these guys too much to lie to them, to little to even consider telling them anything. I'd known them for two damn days and they were already giving me an existential crisis! At least it took Pitch a year.

_-Fourteen Miles Later-_

"I don't see the Slender-creep anywhere. You guys?" I asked, looking to my side at the nightmare and butterfly, who both gave signals of negativity and continued hopping around the sky, intertwined in each other's little game of tag. I sighed and crossed my arms, squinting into the darkness and sniffing the air again, catching a faint scent of tragedy but nothing that could pinpoint a position, let alone the familiar darkness that was a tad too thick for it to look natural, the darkness that always accompanied Pitch.

Either we'd passed him, or he didn't get the memo for where the creature was, leaving me bored out of my mind and trying to pin-point a scent trail out of practically nothing. Hell, for all I knew it might just be car exauhst! I groaned, leaning my head back and complaining to the indigo sky,

"Why didn't I just stay back and eat more of those cinnamon rolls?"

"Talkin' to yerself, sheila?" I heard a familiar voice ask, and I looked down, over the edge of the roof I stood on, seeing Aster standing there with his arms crossed, raising a cocky eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, hands in my jacket pockets as I easily pushed back the familiar current of memories, looking down at him and saying,

"I honestly think I _am _gonna go insain just waiting here for that thing's scent to pick up. Anyone else make it here yet?" Aster pricked up an ear in interest and took a step forward, me aprehensive, waiting on the rooftop and wondering if me suddenly swooping down...if he would take it as a threat. The image of fear flashing across his eyes, my reflection in green, was nothing new, even from him. That I'd been numbed enough to take. But the hositility that might follow, the anger and mistrust...

I shook myself inwardly, wondering if maybe not seeing him for thousands of years was a bad idea. I could have numbed myself considerably at this point...or maybe not. Maybe there was no getting over seeing hate in those eyes.

"Nah, jus' you an' me. You can smell it?" Aster asked, pulling me from my thoughts as I raised my eyebrows, nodding simply.

"Yeah, I _am _the Spirit of Tragedy, however reluctantly. I had to find tragedy somehow back when I played the 'good game'." Great job Astrid. You've got some people skills there. Go and just _hand _him a reason to not like you.

"Hm, wanna show me how good ye are with that thing?" I looked down at him, surprised at how..._un-offended_ he sounded. In fact, his tone held an air of challenge and intrigue, finger running over his nose to indicate what 'that thing' was, eyebrows raised and an actual smirk on his face. He didn't notice, or he didn't care. He wanted to see how well I could track out my own tragedy. How well I could use a skill... Don't get your hopes up, Astrid. Don't do it. If you get your hopes up, the next that'll happen is-

"Just try not to get lost, Fluffy!" I called, and sprung forward, smoke billowing out around me from my sleeves and accumulating beneath me, even it barely able to keep up as I jumped massive distances, landing on rooftops and then jumping sideways to the smoke. Below me, I heard the rapid thump of rabbit feet on concrete, my heart pounding in my ears, drowning out the part of me that was trying to find something that could go wrong.

Now, I was intent on showing off. And that was something I could do pretty damn well.

I jumped sideways and, on a slight updraft, got a stronger, muskier, thicker scent wafting through the air. I grinned, adrenaline beginning to pump easily through my veins as I heard a familiar screech up ahead, making a nose-dive down wards and pulling up just before I hit the ground, Aster running off to my side as a blurr of blue and white and indigo. I picked up the pace easily, wind rushing past me as an indescribable feeling of chasing filled me, laying on my back and giving Aster a toying grin.

He looked up once, saw it, and then narrowed his eyes with a smile.

"Having some trouble?"I asked, lacing my fingers behind my head as the smoke picked up speed, reacting to the scent like I would, shooting straight towards it. I didn't even need to lift a finger to make this thing go any faster, relaxing as I knew Aster sped along, wondering how the endurance of a normal bunny compared to that of one that was 6,1, Australian, and immortal.

"Oh, not on yer nilly!"He exclaimed, and then he smirked with all the wild excitment of chasing, rushing down the street as lights flew past, windows reflecting streaks of light every few seconds, the darkness slowly creeping in on us. I felt the pulsing blood through my veins, felt something tight winding up inside my chest as I flipped over and got to my feet, crouching and looking at the straight-away before us, knowing the creature was around one of the left-hand turns.

I reached back and took a handful of smoke, bringing it in front of my face and smirking, casting a glance over at Aster and saying,

"Hey girls, go find the thing for me, huh? Just don't kill it, we'll need it." Aster looked over, eyes wide as the smoke darted forward separate from the pack.

"Oi! That's cheatin'!" He shouted, and I laughed, standing and shrugging at him.

"I'm _billions _of years old! If I don't want to play by the rules, I make my own!" I called past the rush of smoke and wind, trying to control everything that was going on inside me, from the panic to the dangerous feeling of actual..._happiness_ maybe. Was this what it felt like? I looked at the situation, wondering if I could possibly be happy in it or if I should be shocked it was happening at all.

Aster's intruige led him to this. He wanted to know how well I could sniff out some creatures. But did that mean he was giving me a chance? Was this...was this a chance? If so, a chance at what?...

I wanted to finish the thought, wanted to delve deeper into the pit of confusion and eternal angst that was my mind, but the smoke took that exact opportunity to take the sharpest left-hand turn in the history of left-hand turns, and in my not-paying-attention-what-so-ever-ness, as the smoke shot to the left I tumbled off of it to the right. Luckily, I had my 6,1 furry companion to cusion my fall, being thrown right into him and both of us tumbling across the middle of the thankfully-empty road, shouting all the way.

"Bloody hell!" We both shouted at the same time, stopping suddenly and looking at each other as I sat next to him, both of us on our arses and slightly road-burned and covered in bits of snow. There was an awkward pause, my heart suddenly beating slow and loud, and while this was one of those moments that before I'd have died for, right now I really didn't want to ruin what had just happened.

"Thanks Fluffy, you make a nice air-bag." I quipped, patting his arm and pushing myself up, brushing myself off as I heard a quiet, whimpery-shriek in the alleyway ahead of us.

"Ha, funny, remind me to wring Frostbite's neck fer givin' you that little nickname." Aster mutter, jumping to his feet as I looked over down the alley...

And then something dawned on me. I tried to shake it away, tried to ignore it, tried to say that maybe there wasn't some evil mastermind behind this, that they were just a random breed of something scattering themselves about, that there didn't need to be anything sinister about it, that I really, reeeeaaally wanted to enjoy that moment just a bit longer.

But something darker twisted in my chest, a worry and dread that fell softly and made me frown as I fought it, shaking my head.

"Somethin' wrong?" Aster asked, and I looked up at him, surprised at the actual genuine tone of curiosity and not mocking, taking a second to respond.

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah...it's nothing. Let's go see what they got." I said, brushing it off and walking forward, a bit too sore to trust the smoke again. Aster padded forward, slightly ahead of me, as we crossed the street and made our way through a dark space between houses, coming out on the other side in a sort of clearing, a circle that I assumed was the town square.

A few feet before us, encased in a constantly moving and twisting ball of smoke and butterflies, flailed a panicked and whimpering creature. I wrinkled my nose a bit, not just at how truly grotesque it was up close, limbs a bit too long and jutting out at angles that didn't look normal, maw filled with sharp, black teeth, a greyish, clumpy spit flying from its mouth as it shrieked quietly, moving in parts like a spider. But also at the stench it gave off. I coughed a bit and shook my head, the smell a normal tragedy, but with something clogging it and making it almost unbreathable.

"Ay, lookie there! Ye actually got it, sheila!" Aster exclaimed happily, and I looked up wide-eyed as he walked over to the mist, actually careful not to get too close but at the same time almost...not admiring it, there was a level of caution and disturbance on his face, a bit of tight fear that I remembered he got around these things, probably only able to play it down because there was one of them...but maybe a little bit impressed. He nodded after a second, something tight in my gut as he admitted, "Good job, ye beat me this time!"

Good job. How long had it been since I'd heard those words spoken like that? How long since...since... I felt something swell in my chest, something not uncomftorble, but something unguardedly wonderful. I watched him as he watched the creature. Covered in fur, but that stance, that way of looking at things like they had some secret that he could crack with his eyes, that confidence...and he'd said 'good job'. He'd been impressed.

"...Thank-"

"Almost makes up fer actin' a bit loony afta' mistakin' me fer someone else back then, eh?" His tone was light. It was joking. Of course it was. He had no idea what he'd just done to me. No idea the kind of knife to the heart he'd just administered in one small sentence. No idea how I just jolted, as in physically _cringed_, because how freaking stupid could I get? How could I think that one freaking chase could change this? Change _anything_?

I could literally feel the blow I'd taken, feel the internal bruising and hatred begin bubbling up, because didn't I tell myself not to get my hopes up? Didn't I tell myself not to get too involved with this? Didn't I tell myself that nothing could ever change, because that wasn't how things worked? This wasn't some fairytale or children's story. Happy endings weren't guaranteed. Hell, they weren't even mentioned.

Aster turned at my pause, and I had to fight to even look like I wasn't about to cry because I wasn't I freaking wasn't. He furrowed his brows and I looked at those eyes that were too familiar and had to look away, looking at the creature writhing instead.

"Everythin' a'right, sheila?" I nodded, reaching back and about to scratch the back of my head, but then just shoving my hands as deep into my hoodie pockets as I could possibly fit them and nodding, managing to swallow and do something to my suddenly-dry throat, wondering if how I was moving my face made it seem as if I didn't care or as if I were having an anurysm.

"Y-yeah..."I said, clearing my throat, saying a bit quietly, "...You were right...I had the wrong person."

"...Shei-"

"Hey! Guys look, Astrid and Bunny got it!" I heard above me, and I hoped that my sigh of utter relief wasn't audible. There was a cold wind, me still looking at the creature and unable to make anything other than a light grimace on my face, trying to shake it off as I heard the quick fluttering of wings and the loud arrival of a sleigh, the hooves of reigndeer and the gentle, soft sound of a cloud of sand.

I only really relaxed when a thick darkness covered me and a familiar presence brushed past, a hand almost purposefully brushing knuckles against mine. Shit. If I'd been afraid, if all of that pain had been fear, then I could expect a lecture later. A lecture I'd already given myself.

"Hm, insignificant little thing." Pitch mused.

"Anyone feeling the fear?" North asked, me looking up a bit as he climbed from the sleigh, looking around curiously. I saw Tooth shrug, playing nervoisly with the small feathers on her wrist, Sandy holding up a hand and indicating 'only a bit', Aster now backed away from it and occupying himself with scratching his ear with one of his back feet, Jack crouched on a roof above us.

"A bit, but it's not too bad. I mean look, it's just a little one, nothing we can't manage."Tooth said, voice shaking a bit in a way that, from being around Pitch enough, signaled someone actually managing fear, if not rather poorly. Pitch 'hmm'ed and leaned forward, peering through the transparent spots in the smoke and muttering,

"North, would you care to try that method we discussed before?"

I looked from him to North, momentarily caught off-guard by the fact that they'd actually...talked? As in, they had a meeting? Together? About actual methods? And they were both still alive?

I gave Pitch a look of utter shock, and he snapped me a look that was so filled with venom that I...honestly still didn't care, still shocked and wondering when this went down, how it went down, and why, after all of his fussing and bitching about being here, would Pitch actually do something like that? I shook my head, closing my eyes tight and then quickly opening them. Nope, still Pitch standing there, looking uncomftorble and angry.

_'Since when does Pitch talk to North?' _I wondered, as the aforementioned Guardian of Russian-ness I assumed walked forth and nodded, motioning Jack down from the roof. The younger spirit seemed aprehensive, crouching lower and gripping the staff tighter, eyes a bit wide and worry writ across his face.

"Come Jack! We will need assistance, just one moment!" North encouraged in a kind, almost fatherly tone that Jack seemed to respond a bit better to, jumping from the roof and landing precariously next to Tooth, who offered an encouraging smile.

"What kind of assistance, North?" Jack asked, and North beamed with pride again, motioning to the ball of smoke that caged the now-trembling creature, a disturbing rattling sound coming from it between choked-off shrieks.

"Pitch and I disscuss this morning how best to capture creature without allowing it chance to escape. He mentions how, after Easter, you and him made solid structure of nightmare sand and ice during fight." He spoke easily, scientifically without the smile, and I could see everyone around other than Pitch cringe and frown a bit, me just standing there without a clue of what was going on and still trying to swim out of the drowning sea of self-hatred I'd pooled for myself.

Jack glanced from Pitch to North nervously, Pitch standing there without hostility or comfort, looking more like he, too, wanted to get this over with.

"If we can combine again over base of smoke, then creature can be kept inside."North reasoned, and I frowned, but Aster got to the question before I could ask it.

"Then how the blazes are ya gonna be able ta test it, North?" He asked, and North held up his hands, signalling that he wasn't done talking yet.

"While Pitch and Jack combine black ice, I will stick these tube inside , creating hole. Everytime ze creepy crawly brushes against, I will collect ze little particles. Should give more than enough for yetis and I to examine, no? Yes!" North exclaimed, holding up a type of tube I'd never seen before, pulling it from his thick fur jacket and showing it, twisted and coiling, looking more like a wacked-out waterslide-shape than a tube-shape, a rubber stopper on one side and an open mouth on the other.

"You sure you wanna get that close to that...stuff." Aster asked suspiciously, and I saw Pitch's head move as he rolled his eyes.

"'Stuff'. How beautiful your vocabulary is, Aster, just astonishing." He mused, and I looked away, not really needing this kind of conflict right now. Everything just seemed kind of fuzzy, kind of blocked off, and I just wanted out as soon as possible. It was different, this was. Normally if I wanted out I could get out without a problem, but now I had to wait for others, I had to make sure something went to plan.

I didn't know if I hated it or not.

"Ready Jack?" North asked, looking seriously over at Jack, eyebrows raised in a sympathetic way. I looked over at the kid, and frowned. He looked like what he was about to do was life-threatening, gripping his staff tightly and lips thinned in worry, eyes flickering quickly from the writhing creature, to North with apprehension, and then slightly towards Pitch in worry. I narrowed my eyes, looking between all three and at the other nervous-looking Guardians.

During that whole fiasco with Pitch, I'd been dealing with a particularly difficult area in eastern India, not noticing anything other than a slight upturn in the potency of my tragedies for two or three days. Other than that, I knew what he was doing, but chose not to get too involved, knowing he'd jumped the gun a little bit and that the chances of him succeeding were low enough to keep me apathetic. I didn't know exactly what happened, only that before the shit hit the fan Pitch had spoken to me about Jack Frost and how mildly interesting he was.

I was suddenly wondering exactly what it was that had happened between these two. Pitch seemed like he couldn't care less, but Jack looked damn-near terrified where he was normally care-free and relaxed. I knew Pitch could do some pretty rotten things to people, but he'd always let them say 'no'...of course, sometimes their 'no' came with him getting payback that I'd managed to avoid for some reason.

"Don't worry, Frostie." I found myself saying suddenly, everyone looking at me in surprise, even Pitch glancing over his shoulder at me. I kept my hands in my pockets and gave Jack an indifferent face, just wanting this done with. "I've got that little thing covered, and if I shrink the ball around it a bit then it should only take a short little burst of that frost you were showing me earlier on the mountain."

Jack gave me a little look, gulping a bit, the normally pale color of his face whitening even further. But, to the kid's defense, he actually straightened a bit and nodded, flipping the staff crook-first and getting a bit of a resolute look in his eyes.

"Finally." I heard Pitch mutter, and I rolled my eyes, stepping backwards and leaning against the back wall of the house, Tooth fluttering over next to me. She tensed a bit as Pitch lifted an arm with grace and dramatacism that only he could have while summoning nightmare sand, an agreeably small amount of it flowing from the bottom of his robes and twirrling around his hand, roiling agressively as the nightmare and butterfly that had been next to me walked up to my side curiously.

I reached out a hand absentmindedly and rested it on the neck of the nightmare, who nuzzled into my palm while still watching the scene before us. As Jack tensed, both him and Pitch waiting for the correct moment to strike, both eyeing North as he, too, wanted the timing to be just right to avoid getting either frozen or given one hell of a nightmare, Tooth turned to me.

I heard her gasp, the boys not noticing in all their concentration. I didn't even look at Tooth, too captivated with what was going on, secretly worried about all of this on top of everything else.

"Don't worry, it's harmless." I assured her quietly, frowning as Pitch and Jack exchanged a glance. There was an undertone of hostility, of both saying to the other silently that they did not trust the other and that, in this moment, they certainly weren't bonding. But it was, in all its entirety, a glance of preparedness to do what had to be done. North must have either seen the glance or just known, because, as I was shocked by how suddenly it happened, he seemed to be right on top of things.

The nightmare sand cascaded forward with a subtle flick of Pitch's wrist, and the frost shot forward, looking more like lightning or fragmented pieces of ice than anything that would appear on a window at night, both curving once around the ball, paralleling each other until they got closer, closer, closer...

They collided at just the right time, shooting forward before forming and freezing suddenly, stiffening just as they closed off at the top and bottom, solid and blocking out the sudden shriek of the creature. In fact, nothing could be heard now except Jack's near-silent panting and the nervous shuffling of everyone's feet but mine, the gentle fluttering of the butterfly's wings as it danced across the back of the relaxing nightmare. North stood there, and I had to crane my neck a bit around Pitch to see that, yes, the crazy old man had made his timing count as well. His hand still lingered on the tube, but one end was firmly inside of the creation, if not a bit too covered, but the corked end was out in the air.

I stole my eyes to the sphere before us, and raised my eyebrows as the only outward expression of how...pretty awesome it looked. I studied it, seeing that it was definitly hardened into ice that normally would be smooth and elegant, but there was a black grittiness underneath that had pushed out edges into the ice, sharp points all along as if it were some black/clear sea during the middle of a storm, the faded moonlight from somewhere over the rooftops casting an eerie white glow to it that made me surprised that Pitch wasn't walking around the damn thing and talking about it in his shakespearian-way he sometimes spoke.

"Well, that worked, see you guys at the pole." I said suddenly, not loosing my discomfort in the awe of the moment.

"Astrid?" North asked as I kicked up some smoke and jumped onto it, knowing it would go faster than the nighmare. I waved him off, no longer wanting to be here, no longer wanting to wait for that jagged shot of pain to rip through me again. I needed to get to the Workshop, get somewhere that I actually had a good dream at. Jack had shown me my room between the cinnamon roles and starting this race. I needed to sleep. I just needed to get away.

"Don't worry, I'll look both ways before crossing the continent." I called back sarcastically, avoiding eyecontact with everyone, but feeling two pairs of eyes in particular as I rose up and took off. One pair was golden and narrowed and concerned and suspicious. The other pair was green and confused and...unfamiliar. A ghost.

Why didn't that make me feel better?

_~Pitch Black~_

"How are you going to study that, old man?" I asked without as much venom as I would have liked, too curious to focus on insulting them, as easy as it was. Nicholas crossed his arms and gave me that grin that made me want to cringe and do something horribly evil to get the goodness off of me, saying in that incomprehensible accent,

"I am Santa! I vill always find way, no? Also, my library is not just for show. I have every book, every volume and encyclopedia lining walls of two separate rooms. If I cannot find at least a trademark or similar species to zees, vill be miracle!" I rolled my eyes, Frost finishing icing the ground so the abomanable yetis could push the giant ice-block across the floor of the over look and into whatever room Nicholas was going to study it in.

"Has anyone seen Astrid? She left in such a hurry, I hope she isn't bothered by something." I heard Toothiana fret, and as much as I wanted to be surprised at her actual concern for someone like Astrid, figuring she preferred children and goodie-two-shoes Guardians, my mind was on other things. Specifically, that overstuffed rabbit that crouched on the ground and scratched the back of his ear with a foot, my hands tightening behind my back.

I'd heard her fears, the soft thrum of noise that beat in the back of my mind whenever her fear rang out intensifying to almost a soft ring. With how much Astrid surpressed fear, a soft ring was quite a bit deal, and I'd heard notes of self-hatred, of regret, of a name. I'd let them run off, knowing that it probably wouldn't end well but knowing that if I stopped it then Astrid would have had my head.

But what I'd seen of her when arrived was not just upsetting. It was slightly infuriating, thinking of how incredibly _dull _this man had to be acting if he didn't see at least a shred of something by now. Honestly, he was a damned _rabbit _now and Astrid still recognized him, he could at least act decently towards her, memory or no.

"Yes, _something _must have bothered her." I mused, the rabbit pausing and catching my look, instantly becoming hostile.

"What? Ye think _I _did somethin'?" He asked, me thanking that Astrid had dropped that blasted accent rather quickly. Not that she was as hideously inarticulate as he was, though. I raised my eyebrows and mused,

"Oh, you? The one who's constantly calling her crazy? Nope. I'm fairly sure she's fine with your constant belittlement." For a moment, a quick and curious moment, I thought I saw guilt rip through his features. I thought I saw realization. I thought I saw the hurt that he deserved to feel, and that wasn't being chivalrous or dramatic.

But that moment passed quickly, too quickly for me to say it had happened, and his anger replaced it. He stood to his full height, which was still an inch shorter and mine, and began to stalk towards me as if it were intimidating. I remained rooted to the spot, giving him an indifferent look as he asked, brow furrowed and pointing at me,

"What buisiness is it of yers, huh? Ya think I'm responsible fer a bloody screw-up?"

"Oh, now _that _was a dreadfully wrong choice of words." I snipped out, voice tight and measured in a fake-delighted tone, feeling shadows begin to flicker from my robe in reaction to my growing anger, a tension inside of me that I normally wouldn't allow, but this rabbit wasn't even worth surpression.

"Bunny, stop it-"

"Whatcha gonna do, huh?" He cut off the worried Toothiana, stepping closer until there was only two feet between us, just out of reach of the shadows. I quirked up an eyebrow and asked him, not intimidated in the least,

"Do? What would you expect me to do? Be some terrifying Nightmare King so that you have the opportunity to send me back into my home again where I can recouperate for another eight months? Oh no, you wouldn't want that, because you need me don't you?" Every word made the fur bristle on his coat, and I took far more pleasure in that than I should have, enjoying seeing him squirm for once.

"We don' need either of ya! Jack's tha one who thought it was a good idea ta bring her here, and then she came draggin' you along! You think I need spirits like _you two _here, huh?"

"Spirits like us?" I asked in an even tone, a tone calm enough to send a look of uneasiness through his eyes, aware of the fears of those around us and his, a fear of being wrong that carried on from the last time I'd seen him. I stepped forward once, and smirked icily as he reeled back slightly, fists clenched and glare doing nothing to me. I narrowed my eyes and leaned closer, saying,

"My dear Aster, you do need spirits like us. Spirits who you all hate, and despise, and outcast, and _ignore._ Why was that again? You never gave me a terribly good reason for it."

"Ye tried to take ova' the bloody planet!" Aster shouted incredously, but I was unperturbed. I leaned in a bit further and asked in a tone too calm, too honest,

"What about Astrid?"

The room went silent. New fears hummed in my head, in a far-off place, ready if I wanted to listen to them, but I didn't. I knew what they were. I could feel it in the silence, could see it in the look in Aster's eyes. They were trying to be angry. Trying oh _so _hard, but they couldn't even try to hide the shock, the feeling of not knowing an answer, the feeling of _fearing _you were wrong. Wide, eyebrows pulled upwards and together.

I was just about to go on, to verbally destroy him right then and there in a way I'd wanted to since I'd met the rodent. I was just about to say how he hurt her, how none of them did anything for her, how they left her, how they thought they knew anything about how necissairy we were. I was just about to do all of that.

Until a sudden, sharp shriek of noise ripped through my mind, a fear that was _not _waiting for me to listen to it, a fear that _demanded _to be heard. It was high-pitched and urgent and terrified, and a fear I knew all-too well, a familiar fear in unnatural intensity. I tensed, cringing at the sound in my mind but paying that little attention. It had been this way before, but not often enough to be normal. Everything that had just happened dropped from my mind.

"Sandy, vat es wrong? You look ill." I faintly heard North ask, but when I spoke it was to myself, no one else, a realization and a dread, a frivolous second-thought. Because this was not normal. Because the ringing was only getting louder. Because even I know when fear had been pushed past the point it should ever get to. And this was that point.

"Astrid!"


	9. Comfort and Protection

_-As there is currently a massive storm bearing down upon my town, this chapter was typed in the dark with a terrified author rapidly hitting the 'save' button, but if this comes out a bit later than usual I do apologize. Remember to review and enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

_ I couldn't quite reach the petal, but I knew that if I just pulled myself up onto the lowest branch then I'd be able to pluck it quickly before losing my balance. So, with a smile and a note of how much easier it was to do this now than it had been when I was younger, I hefted myself up onto the branch, feet balancing steadily before reaching up and, with one hand bracing myself against the trunk, I pulled down the biggest blue flower I could find._

_ When I was sure I wasn't about to fall, I grinned at it,__twirling__it once before, probably a bit too confidently, jumping backwards and landing on the ground in a bit of a crouch. I turned, walking a few steps and picking up a boomerang, holding it in my free hand and laughing a bit, almost bouncing on my bare feet just looking at it. It wasn't at how well-made it was, honestly there were more mistakes in it than I'd care to admit. It was that it was going to be his twenty-first boomerang, the one that he would be required to carry with him everywhere, the one he was required to have for the rest of his life because it was given to him during the birthday that would initiate him as one of the true men of the entire village._

_ And I'd made it. It had blue markings and brown engravings, sharp and only slightly nicked, but it still worked, I'd made sure. I slid the flower into the band around the pointed center of the boomerang, the twenty-first flower that took me awhile to pick out. But now it was done, it was ready, and all that was left was a hope that he'd like it. Hope that this would show him how proud I was, not just for becoming this strong and becoming one of the more important members of the village._

_ But proud that he'd been able to do all of that and still manage to put up with me all on his own. This was the least I could do for him, and the thought of doing it was still making me jumpy._

_"Astrid." My head snapped up and I looked around, something thrumming through me with a suddenness that made me step backwards, looking around for whatever voice had said my name. No one was__near bye, the small, grassy cliff I stood on bare spare me and the two trees behind me. And yet the voice hadn't been yelling, so it couldn't be far off._

_"...Brother?" I called, though the voice wasn't his, was deeper, had a slight rasp to it, almost echoed._

_"Astrid, it is me." The voice hummed again, and that thrumming within me intensified, feeling like my bones were vibrating, something tight coiling in my stomach, almost like energy. A panic filled me and I turned around, seeing only the trees and the rising moon, afternoon growing late. I gripped the boomerang in my hands and jumped when I heard footfalls behind me, spinning around._

_ He stood there, indigo markings against tanned skin on his arms and forehead, light blue hair pulled into a ponytail but some still fell into his face, arms crossed over a bare chest. Leaves and dirt clung to dark brown pants, and I knew I'd been gone a bit longer than I should have, him probably coming to look for me. I threw aside the odd feelings and grinned broadly, exclaiming,_

_"Brother! You were supposed ta wait with the others!" But there was no scolding in my tone other than a playful one, not caring that he was seeing his gift early. He offered a lopsided grin back and bright green eyes glittered a bit, saying in an accent a bit thicker and coarser than mine,_

_"Oi, how could I__thinkin' you'd gone an' gotten__yerself__inta__some trouble again?" I rolled my eyes and saw his fall onto what was in my hands. I watched as his expression turned from playful to confusion to amusement, and I spoke before he could, giddy and stepping quickly forward to meet him, holding it out._

_"Look! I know you're supposed to get it later, but do you like it? I mean, I guess I nicked the wood in a few places, but other than that-"_

_"Astrid." The voice cut me off, and I blinked, disoriented as a dizzying thrumming pounded in my head._

_"Astrid, it's a 'beaut." His voice brought me back a bit, and I didn't think it was physically possible to smile wider, seeing him take the boomerang and turn it in his hands, seeing that it was just the right side, the color not too dark like I'd been afraid it might be. And I saw his smile, the glistening line of what might be tears on his lower lid._

_ I punched his chest and said, though the happiness inside of me swelled tighter than anything and maybe I was about to cry, too._

_"Oi, watch it anklebita'!" He laughed, and I laughed, because this was the day that we'd both been so excited for, the day we wished our parents could have seen. And he opened his mouth to say more, say something else, but he stopped. His mouth was still open, forming around some word, but he stopped, eyebrows drawing and eyes looking above my head, confusion suddenly swimming in his eyes._

_ "Astrid, it is time to home." The voice again, and I__whirled__around, expecting something to be standing there, only to have just the two trees swaying in a slight breeze. I furrowed my brow and turned to my brother, but he was still looking past me, blinking confused._

_"Brother, are you okay? You don't look so- wait!" I called as he suddenly looked down to his hands and shook his head, turning around. _

_"Astrid, do not." The voice warned, but I shoved it away, whatever it was. I ran forward, rounding to face him as he continued walking forward, looking from his hands to behind me._

_"Oi, Brother, what's__wron-" I choked off on the word, all the air being pushed out of my lungs as I stared forward in horror. He kept walking. Through me. Right through me, as if I weren't even standing there. He didn't even look at me. Something in my chest was breaking, and I couldn't tell if it were my heart or just everything. I spun around, seeing him walking still, and in a few steps he'd be in the forest line and he'd__disappear._

_"Big Brother?...Big Brother!" I shouted, but he didn't turn. He'd walked through me. Why did he walk through me? Why wasn't he turning around? What happened? Why was he...why..._

_"Big-"_

_"He can't hear you." The voice said quietly, and I fought through it, not caring who or what it was. Not now, voice hitching as panic snapped something inside of me, feeling a prickling behind my eyes as my voice cracked._

_"Wh...what?" I asked, shaking my head. That was impossible. Of course he could hear me! "Why?...Big Brother!" I shouted, but he was already half-into the treeline, and by the time I'd managed to take another broken breath he was gone._

_"No!" I screamed, feeling like a lunatic for shouting at something that wasn't there, but not caring because...because why didn't he see me? Why didn't he hear me?! "Where's my big brother? Why can't he hear me?!" I demanded, fear ripping suddenly through me, wheezing now and clutching at my chest, feeling both empty and broken at the same time. What was going on? What was happening?!_

_ "Astrid-"_

_"Ast-"_

"Astrid, wake up!"

_~Pitch Black~_

I flung open her door, shoving aside Jack as her fear spiked in my mind, my eye twitching as I fought through it and had the mind to turn to the others, their faces a mix of worry and concern.

"Stay out!" I snapped, and then slammed the door in their faces, leaving the room empty spare me and her. I spun around and took no time crossing the small room and stopping at the bed pushed again the far wall, the side pushed onto the wall and Astrid laying on her back, having fallen asleep above the covers that were now either thrown across the foot of the bed or bunched in her fists so hard that the corners were peeling off the mattress.

Up close, the fear was mind-numbing, and I had to force my eyes open to look at her, to see how far into the nightmare she'd fallen. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her jaw clenched and breathing shallow and rapid, a small, almost imperceptible noise ghosting from her throat as she tensed, caught in the worst-end of the nightmare.

"Astrid."I whispered, reaching forward and forgetting everything else, all complications and logical thought falling away with a practiced skill. Astrid did not need harshness, did not need shallowness, did not need walls. She was strong enough as it was, and when something like this struck she was allowed a bit of comfort. And I was the only one who could give it.

I sat on the side of the bed and leaned forward, pulling my knee up onto the bed to get better leverage and hovered a hand above her head, my other hand moving to gently clasp the tight fist that seemed able to rip the sheets themselves, the knuckles protruding. I felt something tight in my own chest, looking down at her as I waited for the moment to rip her from the nightmare, waited to break it, waited to make sure it wouldn't hurt her more to end it than let it play out. Sometimes it was like that, sometimes she needed to fight through it or else she might be too traumatized to wake up.

Her face scrunched a bit, and that tightness in my chest intensified. That's a look I knew well, but it never got easier. I'd known Astrid longer than most spirits had been alive, and she was by far the most unshakably stubborn and strong person I'd ever met, taking things that would undo most and pushing on just because she was too damn proud to let it kill her. Which was why I could never, not after countless nightmares, ever get used to seeing her like this. Which was why I'd locked the others out, because she wouldn't want them to see her like this, either. It was something she trusted only me with.

She took in a deep breath, and I felt a spike of fear so strong that I could not allow this to go on, not when it was getting this bad, not when the noise was so strong I could barely hear anything on the outside, so strong that it was no longer something I could listen to and hear words. Raw fear. Just raw fear.

"Astrid, wake up!" I snapped urgently, and pressed a hand hard on her forehead. I felt the darkness of the nightmare snap in two, then whither. Her eyes snapped open just as I removed my hand and she sat bolt-upright, wheezing loudly and hunching over onto herself, arm wrapped around her chest like they did every time it was this bad, as if she were trying to keep herself together, her fear still loudly playing in my mind.

Without missing a beat, I slid further onto the bed and quickly sat in front of her, her sitting criss-cross to pull herself even further inwards, and if she did that I knew it took far too long to get her to come out. She was trying to do what she'd been doing for centuries. Trying to protect herself. And I would not allow that.

I reached forward and ripped her arms from around her, hearing her give a strangled cry that was muffled only because her jaw was still so tightly clenched, and pulled them forcefully forward. I then wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me in a way that would never happen normally, but this was not normal and frankly whatever image it was that I had to keep up could go to hell. This was not the time for pride.

At first she was stiff, like always, but also 'like always' she broke quickly, and suddenly there were two hands gripping so tightly at my back that it hurt a bit, but I didn't say anything, just let her push through it as I eased the most of her pain with something she'd never been given: Comfort.

I softly tightened my grip on her as she shook so hard that I was surprised her teeth weren't chattering, hearing muffled and broken-off sobs. Dammit, the girl had just come off of what felt like a nightmare from hell and she was still trying to smother something. And despite myself, I almost chuckled. She was too strong for her own good. I focused on tracing one hand down her spine and up again, the trembling still violent through her black hoodie, fingertips ghosting over her spine. My other hand kept her rooted to me, gave her something to hold onto and push into when a violent tremor rocked through her, crook of my elbow pushing into the back of her head and hand on her shoulder, thumb tracing back and forth.

That was what she responded better to. Soft touches, rather than tight holds like I'd seen some parents give their children. She did not like force, after all. In fact, she downright rebelled against it. So reassuring, light, delicate touches were all that could possibly comfort her. Her breathing was hitched and her fists clenched harder or lighter depending on how high her fear got, rising in waves but, eventually, beginning to ebb even more with every downturn.

I looked down at her, my arm moving from her shoulder, hand lacing through her hair and brushing down her neck, feeling the heat on her skin that came with crying, something she would never allow me to see, something she had, by the dryness of my robe, managed to keep at bay. All the same, I pressed my palm to the back of her neck and continued to softly trace my fingertips down her spine.

"Shh...shh...I know."I whispered as she gulped and shook a bit, more of an aftershock movement. Her breathing was still difficult, body rising higher than normal with every breath, but it was quieter. The tightness in my chest gave way, but there was still something left, which was most definitely not normal. Usually just comforting her left me a bit drained and curious, wondering what the dream had been if I couldn't read the fears clearly or wanting to get back to whatever it was I had been doing after I'd lulled her back to sleep or she'd flown off.

Now, though, I frowned, brow furrowing as something pulled within me, something toward Astrid that was quite insistent and strong, something not tight like worry but like something I hadn't felt before...and for a being practically as old as time, that was something quite impressive. I tried to dispel it as fatigue, but I was not tired. Or curiosity, but I didn't feel the need to know something that horrible that it had reduced Astrid to this. Or anger, but that was just a long-shot.

Instead, terrifyingly and confoundedly, it felt more like want. Want to stay here, want to continue comforting her, want of something I couldn't quite place. I shook that away, telling myself it was nothing, that I'd been put under too much stress and anger lately and that possibly it was just some lingering fear from one of the Guardians...and part of me knew that was all a lie, but I could not place this feeling, this sudden emotion, and currently I did not want to deal with it. It would fade, but for now Astrid was making progress, and I should focus on that.

Her shaking stopped slowly, her breathing evened out, and her face momentarily buried further into my collarbone, hands limp on my back from exertion. I felt the muscles beneath my hand on her back relax, and then her neck, continuing slower strokes, hand on the back of her neck reaching back and brushing her hair from her face, resting on her shoulder as she took a moment to collect herself. With that feeling inside, I might have held her longer, but luckily she broke it.

She moved her hands to her face and laced them through her hair on either side, pressing her palms to her cheeks to cool them. My hand on her back traced slowly up and then rested on her other shoulder.

"Get some sleep." I said softly, and she quickly shook her head. I tutted, and mused, "I'd rather sit here all night than deal with a sleep-deprived teenager in the morning."

"...Pitch, I don't want to." Her voice was raw and a bit uncontrolled, hearing her take a breath in at the sound of it. But I'd heard worse from weaker.

"They never happen twice in one night, you know that. And if it does happen, if worst comes to absolute world-shattering worst...I'll have that tiny little man give you a decently good dream." The words could not have come out more reproachful towards that man, just the thought of having him giving out good dreams making me coil, much less to Astrid. But I didn't think, with all that was going on, that she could take another nightmare, or that I could take another bout of that fear that was back to the pleasant thrum that I could easily ignore.

She paused, and I heard her let out a breath. I waited patiently for a few minutes until I thought she may have fallen asleep like that, but finally she nodded.

"Ok." She said simply, and sat back. Her face may have been red before, but now it only showed a faint hint on her cheekbones. Other than that, she looked exhausted, and a bit more broken than normal. I could guess what she'd seen, and took a resigned breath to not cause any more trouble with that rabbit.

"Lay back." I instructed, and where she would normally argue she just did it, tiredly and almost clumsily, rolling onto her side and facing the wall, gripping the pillow as a fear of falling asleep thrummed into my mind. I slid to the edge of the bed and shifted so that my other leg was on the bed and my back to the headboard, moving behind her and pressing a hand between her shoulder blades.

I absentmindedly and lightly thrummed my fingers against her back, one after the other as her breathing began to deepen. I watched her, hair slightly damp with sweat, body hunched and giving every sign of absolute exhaustion. In the morning, she'd be a bit less chipper than usual, and maybe that was a good thing. Her smart-assed remarks may be lessened, if I were lucky.

But that little feeling inside of me rose again, and I shook my head. I could have sworn that it almost felt like...no. Astrid and I were two of the most broken beings in this universe and any other, but 'attachment'? That was just ridiculous, and I knew it. Astrid and I needed the other's company, her for comfort and me for reassurance that I was not, in fact, in this alone. Possibly that was for both of us, a little comfort and a little reassurance. And yes, we tended to look after the other. But we were not attached. That was ridiculous.

It took a few minutes to lull her into sleep, and I waited just a tad bit longer before gently sliding my hand off her back and standing, knowing I had to return before she woke up, but needing to retrieve that damned nightmare and butterfly combo, Astrid always sleeping better with those two near. I walked across the floor and expected the Guardians to still be standing there, seeing them jump as I opened the door inward and walked out, their group parting as I cracked the door.

"...How is she?" Toothiana asked, and I marveled at her level of actual concern. As if she'd have done that before.

"Fine." I said mutely, taking another step forward and wanting to return as soon as possible.

"...How did you know how to calm her down?" I heard from Jack, and I rolled my eyes, scoffing at them.

"I've known Astrid for longer than all of you have been MiM's playtoys. You think this is the first nightmare she's had?" My tone was icy and belittling, just like I liked it, and I was about to break from the group, having gotten past North and hearing the nightmare up ahead, down the hall, when North asked a question that made me stop.

"You..._protect _her?" He asked, as if shocked. I looked over my shoulder, frowning and seeing them all, their surprised and worried faces, looking after me confused, North's expression more in revelation than anything. I paused, looking at them and thinking. Finally, I gave a slight shrug and asked,

"Who else would?"

I turned as their faces fell to realization, not needing their guilt at the moment. I walked down the hall, feeling eyes on me as I followed the sound and feel of the nightmare ahead. Astrid would wake soon, and I needed to get back. That was all that mattered. All else could be held until tomorrow.

But still, I couldn't help but think of North's expression, and just think...

"Pitch, don't begin thinking like Astrid. That's a dangerous place." I whispered to myself as I shook my head and continued searching for the nightmare.

_~Astrid~_

It was one of those moments when I woke myself up by rolling over, even the slightest movement jolting me from a fragile sleep. I frowned, eyes slowly parting open with the bad taste of a nightmare still in my mouth, but the actual memory far away, somewhere beyond a warmth and gentle voice. Once I'd managed to pry open my dry eyes, blinking away the blurriness, I looked at what was before me and almost smiled.

Whatever time it was, it was late. Pitch didn't usually fall asleep until early morning, around two or three a.m., which meant I'd actually made some decent headway on rest. It also meant I was now wide-awake, with a sleeping Boogeyman in front of me and the perfect opportunity for black mail, also seeing the nightmare having fallen asleep with his head in Pitch's lap, Pitch's hand resting over it's nose.

The butterfly was sleeping lazily behind him, on the nightstand, making for the perfect picture, and surely this place had a camera somewhere. I paused a moment, shifting slightly so I could rest my head on my arm, folded above my pillow and giving me better leverage as I felt a sudden compulsion to study Pitch, to see what the Nightmare King looked like asleep.

Normally I would just brush it off and leave, or wake him up if it was late enough. Now, though...I felt like something was different. Nothing different had happened, those nightmares had happened before, as I remembered last night with embarrassment, but something seemed almost more open about the situation, more relaxed, as if we weren't running from the moon and trying to fix ourselves. I thought about last night, how in the haze of pain and hysteria that still lingered somewhere inside of me, I almost felt as if it had been more than gentle touches that had managed to get me to calm down. That maybe it was this place. Maybe I was beginning to think I was safe. Maybe...maybe I was. Maybe.

And so I looked half-sleepily at Pitch, pushing myself up into a sitting position and leaning on an elbow, wishing I had that camera. He sat in a chair he'd pulled over from the desk next to the door, the back against the nightstand and him angled a bit towards me. His head was leaning towards his shoulder, pointed slightly down and giving me a shadow of his face, a face that honestly surprised me. I'd seen Pitch with a lot of different emotions. Anger, annoyance, sarcasm, suspicion, pain. But I'd never seen him...well, _tranquil_.

All the lines that were usually on his face disappeared, even lines that I didn't know _could _disappear, like the ones on his forehead and around the corners of his eyes, or between his eyebrows. He was just constantly frowning or glaring or tense, but now I could see smooth skin, eyes closed in an almost innocent look about him, if you could call the Boogeyman innocent at all. He was slightly hunched forward, shoulders rising and falling in sleep, one hand on the nightmare's nose and the other on the bed.

I faintly remembered grabbing onto that hand last night, an act so normal during sleep that it was subconscious. Now it just lay there, relaxed and slightly curled, palm facing down and smooth grey skin darkened by the minimal light allowed into the room. I thought about taking that hand again, knowing it would either wake him or push back those fears and pains inside of me even further, or possibly both, but shook my head, remembering last night.

Pitch deserved sleep as much as I did, just knowing that the mere fact he _had _fallen asleep a sign that he must be exhausted, knowing him to stay up weeks at a time without issue. And maybe we were both a little exhausted with the wars we were fighting. But, unlike Pitch, I seemed unable to find sleep, knowing I was completely awake and didn't think sitting here for hours would do anything for me. I needed to walk, needed to get lost in these halls...needed to forget that nightmare.

I managed to get around the sleeping nightmare easily, gently opening the door and silently thankful that it didn't creak, stepping out and taking one last look into Pitch, into the completely black room spare his and the nightmare's silhouette, and a few wisps of grey-white smoke. He was still sleeping, and something about seeing him like that...it almost made me want to stay. I mean, he'd never looked more...no. I shook my head, knowing 'vulnerable' wasn't the right word and that I seriously needed to take a half-asleep walk if I thought Pitch of all people needed protecting.

Still, I lingered a bit longer in the doorway, just watching, before finally shaking myself and stepping back, closing the door as softly as possible. The rest of the workshop was silent, spare the sound of soft winds making their way through the mountains, giving the place an almost empty feeling while still maintaining that bit of charm and nostalgia that seemed to seep from the walls and workbenches. I made it to the overlook before I realized that I was completely exhausted and wide-awake at the same time, and if I even attempted stairs or halls I might find a way to actually kill myself.

So, I simply walked to the railing and leaned on it, looking out. And surprisingly enough, an instant calm washed over me, almost as if all this joy and tinsel and what-not was what really made children love the Christmas season, made them happy and relaxed and excited and trusting. It was...I couldn't place it, but it was there, that thing that made me almost like this place, the thing that made that first night so calming. And it sounded ridiculous, but part of me felt like the atmosphere here was trying to comfort me after my nightmare, smoothing out a few nerves and pushing back my fear.

Usually I didn't rebound this quick from a nightmare like that. Usually I'd still be laying down, or twisting the nightmare around in my head to the point where I actually woke Pitch up and he had to consol me back into sleep. It was those nights that became the most confusing. Those nights where, if I ever did question why Pitch stayed near me, I felt something tight in my chest. Maybe it was the thought of him leaving, of actually being all alone. As much as I hated to admit it, Pitch had made himself somewhat of a necessary constant in my life.

I watched as the globe slowly turned, the lights flickering and ancient languages dimmed in the darkness, thinking now that I actually had time to, now that I felt relaxed and able to. No stress, no pain, no inner war, no nightmares. Just calm and the faded scent of peppermint and chocolate. I breathed in and out slowly, resting my chin down on my arms and crossing my ankles behind me.

The first time I'd met Pitch I damn-near killed the guy out of fear and anger that he was trying to convert me anyway. The only thing that stopped me was when I said 'no' and he allowed that. That was the moment I realized how little of a choice I'd been given in my current situation, the moment the wheels began to turn. So I owed him more than one on that day, but he never brought it up and I wanted to keep my debt short.

But truly, I owed him more than I could count. I recalled the first time I had a nightmare, rather quickly after I'd met him. I smiled at the memory, actually, thinking of it not as my first nightmare but the first night Pitch and I began our endless war of banter. If Pitch knew what he was getting himself into then... But hadn't he? Wasn't that why he was here now, still here? He knew exactly what he was doing, otherwise why would he have been there in the first place? Why would he have kept coming back?

I'd asked this question more than once, and every time I just concluded that he saw my prediciment and we settled on the fact that we were both broken, and the only way to keep ourselves somewhat together was to wallow in mutual angst and existence. That was why he'd kept coming back, and that was why I'd eventually let him. But just then, and even last night, it felt a bit different. I couldn't tell if it were this place's energy anymore, couldn't tell if it was just me or...

I heard footsteps behind me, and despite the interruption I smiled a bit, something warming up inside of me.

"You're getting better." I complemented, straightening a bit and lifting my chin from my arms, hearing a light chuckle behind me, followed by a whisper,

"I thought would be good to not be sneaky-sneaky. You have rough night already." The way he said it asked for no details, asked for nothing more than a nod. It wasn't sympathy, it wasn't a cold fact, it was a soft recognition without want of a long discussion. As if he understood. Which almost made it less embarrassing that he'd known of the nightmare in the first place. Almost.

I frowned and moved my hands on the railing, fingers digging in as I shrugged, something like self-consciousness twisting in my chest as I muttered,

"Yeah, well...thanks. For not scaring the shit out of me."

"Es nothing!" He whispered in exclamation, now probably to not wake everyone up with his booming voice. "Now come, I make hot coco and talk small, no? Yes!" He insisted, answering his own question again as I turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. He seemed genuine, holding his arm out to lead the way to the kitchen I'd been in just this morning...or yesterday morning, I still wasn't sure what time it was.

I hesitated, holding one arm awkwardly and knowing I should be a bit apprehensive... But I'd done nothing but be wary of them, and they hadn't proven to me that I should be. So far, they hadn't tried to kill me, else they would have just then when I was sleeping and weak. And I was almost positively convinced that none of this was a joke anymore, not with the risk North went through to place that tube into the smoke-sand-ice cage the creature was trapped in.

In fact, when I thought about it...they'd been nothing but nice to me. I'd just never experienced 'nice' before... I thought of Toothiana's quick but well-meaning meeting with me before, Sandy's offering of good dreams, Jack and the friendship I felt developing between us, North and his overwhelming kindness that was going to take a lot of getting-used-to... The only one who had proven to be exactly what I thought he'd be was Bunny. And I'd even had a good moment with _him._

"This may just be the exhaustion talking...but sure. Thank you." I said, running a hand through my hair as North's face lit up, as if I couldn't have done anything kinder than accept his offer. He quickly turned and led me back to the kitchen, allowing me in first before cracking the door and pulling out a chair for me at the island. I smiled awkwardly, not knowing how these things worked still, but he didn't seem to care. He merely smiled back as I sat up on the tall chair and went to the stove on the other side of the kitchen, water already boiling.

"Were you up, too?" I asked, pulling my feet onto the middle bar on the legs of the chair, arms resting in my lap as I leaned forward. North moved his massive frame around as he searched for mugs as he nodded.

"Oh yes, was finishing planning for big party tomorrow!" North exclaimed excitedly, and I sat back in surprise, raising an eyebrow.

"Party? Here? Why?" I asked, and was already feeling knots of anxiety in my stomach. Parties meant people. And we all know how good poor little Astrid is with people. North pulled out two cups, both the size of my head, and said while muttering some Russian tune under his breath,

"Es for New Year! All spirits gather for celebration of success and what es to come, a time for all to gather when normally we would be too busy. Es very important to all, and I host every year! This year will be even grander than last, with twice the eggnog and a larger invitation list! Thanks to Jack, we learned of other spirits we had not previously known well enough to send invitation."

"Great, when will it be? I need to know when to lock myself in my room and go into Ann Frank mode." I muttered, shivering at the thought of an entire workshop filled with spirits, 95% of which I'd probably chewed up and spit out verbally. I'd never gotten into a physical confrontation, having the athletic attributes of a twig, and the other option was too cruel for even the worst of them. But words hurt longer than bruises, and most of those guys had probably heard of me by now.

"Oh, you must go! Tooth es so excited to play dress-up with another girl! Has been just her for so long, she jumps out of seat in excitement!" North exclaimed quietly, mixing the chocolate and peppermint as I breathed it in, nerves easing as I rolled my eyes and smirked.

"I'm sure she is, but I'm not exactly a welcome guest amongst the other spirits." I mused, leaning back and yawning as North turned, still smiling something warm and comforting, placing the mug in front of me as he said,

"But you are welcome guest amongst us, and that is all that matters, no?" I paused a moment, looking up at him. Had he really meant that? Something a bit warmer filled up my chest, and I coughed to try and stifled it down, but that did nothing, that tingling sensation in my chest still pleasant and overwhelming at the same time. A welcome guest among the Guardians. There was a time when I wouldn't want that at all. That was two days ago.

"...Yes?" I asked, uncertain as I reached for the cup, the warm ceramic on my palms as I watched the innocent steam dance upwards.

"Hit hammer on head." North said quietly, in a soft and kind voice that only he had. I looked up at him, seeing his smile as he sat across from me, the chair squeaking in strain. I bit my lip, looking down into the brown liquid and breathing in coco, peppermint, and sugar, containing myself from drinking it for the moment.

"Why?" I found myself asking before I could stop myself, not looking up at North but instead into my own reflection. I looked tired. Worn. Closed-off. Troubled. But when did I not? I looked just about as much of a mess on the outside that I was on the inside. There was a time when I loved looking at my reflection, to admire ceremony paint or to try and keep my hair from my eyes...but that was too long ago. I wasn't that person anymore where the worst thing about a reflection was shaggy hair.

"Why? Astrid, you have been great help! You make Tooth happy, you Jack friend that he can actually relate to! I have yet to see him so excited about seeing someone since I truly began to know him. He is usually very shy, very distracted, but around you he has brightened, opened up. Even Sandy has taken liking to you. You are our friend, Astrid, and we treat friends like family!" North explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and I looked up at him with mild surprise.

I hadn't done any of what he'd said...had I? I mean yes, Jack and I talked and hung out a lot, and from the words I'd managed to make out from Sandy and Tooth they both certainly didn't hate me, but...a friend?...Family?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, suspicious, North raising his eyebrows. I sat back a bit and hunched, the drink between my hands as I looked down into it, brow furrowed and tight as my hands tightened on the cup that I'd yet to drink from. North remained silent, waiting for me to elaborate, something inside of me teetering, but what it was and what it was teetering towards I wasn't sure. So I just spoke, because I felt a sudden need to, because something had to be pushed out after what had happened.

I needed room for everything.

"Why did you accept my help in the first place? I mean, before you guys didn't exactly hate me, but you didn't trust me. I was hanging around Pitch and so everyone automatically assumes I'm some giant evil thing trying to take over the world, or the few that know my back story assume what happened was just me being some rebellious brat who's this massive danger to society! I'm the Spirit of Tragedy, and you used to believe that this meant I was evil. You used to treat me just like everyone else. So why be this nice to me now?" I stopped myself before I could say more, but more wanted to come out, more needed to. I needed room.

"...You are right. We were wrong to assume about you, Astrid, just because we thought...with Pitch and everything, we did not think that something else might have happened. But that is because you never told anyone what happened between you and Manny, why you are not evil, because I know for a fact you are not. Evil is something I know very well. You are not evil. Stale fruit cake? That es evil. But Astrid, you forget one thing: We are Guardians, and we protect all children, no matter what age. That includes you." North said, and as hard as I tried to keep the words down, as hard as I clenched my jaw, as loud as my mind screamed to not say them, it came out anyway.

"I do it because people need help." My hands twitched on the mug, and I didn't know how it hadn't broken yet, or how I wasn't dispelling smoke that usually accompanied fear or rage or panic. Probably because I was too exhausted. Or couldn't focus enough. Or that North was actually so kind that I felt kind of warm and belonging and I never felt that and it was terrifying and...and I just wanted to say it. After Jack, after Bunny, after the creatures, after the nightmares, after what MiM did, after what the other spirits did, after _everything_...I just wanted to say it. And North was listening. I'd only ever had that once, and that person was asleep in my room.

"Sometimes people lose focus of how strong they can be. Their life gets too easy and they kind of want to keep it that way, so they do easy things and strive for easy goals, and if the world ended up that way it would just be one obnoxious pit of contentment and apathy... I just want to help people be everything they can be, do something amazing. Without tragedy, they have no reason to do anything hard because they don't think they're strong enough.

"So I gave it out in small little increments at a time. Nothing people couldn't handle, but just enough so that they could get over it if they tried, just enough to remind them that they were strong and push them in the right direction. And it works, but no one really wants to see that part because they all want tragedy to be bad, and it's fine if mortal people think that way, easier in fact. But spirits...that's just ignorance. It's easier for them to think I'm bad because...because then they don't have to learn what happened." I stopped, and as I did I let out the rest of the breath I had left in me.

Now was when I was terrified. Now was when I was scolding myself for saying all of that. Now was when I told myself he would never understand... But I didn't feel or do any of that. Instead, I felt a strange sense of relief, a sense of letting go and release. I closed my eyes, relishing in it. I didn't even care what North would say next. I'd finally let it out, I'd said it, everything I'd ever wanted and needed to say, balled up and shoved down for longer than almost everything on this planted had been around...and it was out. I felt worn-out.

"...What happened, then? Between you and Manny? And how es Pitch tied into it all?"

I looked up, genuinely surprised as North looked at me with a curious face, as if...as if...

Holy shit. He understood what I'd just said. He'd understood. And not only that, but he understood without acting like it was a bit deal, and he was curious for _more_, more that I probably couldn't give right now, but he wanted to know. And I was still allowed to sit here. He wasn't kicking me out, he wasn't scolding me, he wasn't hating me.

He still had that comforting warmth about him. The workshop was no less welcoming. And, as I took a sip of the coco, it was still warm. And inside of me, that warm thing was starting to come back, and with it something light and easy. It took me a moment to process all of this before remembering he'd asked a few questions, questions I had to figure out how to answer before I spoke. I cleared my throat, sitting up and fixing my face from astonishment, saying a bit unsteadily,

"Um, well...MiM..." I paused, and then decided on the easiest route, "He didn't give me a choice. I mean, I know he didn't give anyone else a choice either, but...there was more to it...a lot more. He was worried about power struggle, he was just starting to create spirits from traits they resembled in life, and...with me, it was a pretty big deal to him. He didn't want anything to go wrong, and in all the chaos of his own mind I guess he kinda forgot to ask me if I wanted to be some immortal spirit. He didn't even wait for me to die, just kinda...took me away. Bam. No questions asked."

North nodded, fingers laced together over the steaming white mug, looking down for a moment in thought, and then nodding again and looking at me with a raised eyebrow. His eyes gave away nothing other than intrigue.

"There es more, yes?" He asked, and I paused a moment before nodding, not ready quite yet to share that... North held up a hand and said in agreement, "Es all fine, you can tell in time. What about Pitch?" I relaxed, this a slightly easier subject, taking another sip of coco before saying, an arm slung across the back of the chair and a foot on the seat,

"Pitch has kinda been with me since the very beginning. We're a lot like each other, ya know? Neither of us had a choice, we're both labeled as pretty much the absolute scum of the entire planet."

"Pitch-"

"Tried to take over the world, yeah, so I've heard. But I'm talking about fear. The world needs a little bit of fear, so if he ever left we'd have a bunch of idiot running around not knowing why they think it's fine to jump off a roller coaster into a lake or some shit. Granted, he took it a bit far, but I'm looking at the big picture. And before you ask, no, he didn't have a choice either, but that's his story to tell, not mine." I interrupted, taking another sip of the coco now that I'd inwardly given in to the fact that it was delicious.

"I see," North said lightly, nodding and rubbing his beard thoughtfully and then saying, almost a bit mischievously and slyly, "I have never known Pitch to care for anyone but Pitch, and yet he protects you as if you are very important to him." I shrugged and continued sipping, saying after I gulped a bit chug,

"I have nightmares a lot. Nothing he causes, and I guess you can't really call them 'nightmares', because they aren't just bad dreams. I just remember some pretty rotten stuff and it shakes me up a bit. He can hear my fear and he kinda...I don't know, comforts me? It's usually small stuff, nothing like what happened tonight. I don't really know when it started happening either really. It was just one night he was there, and I was already in the midst of an existential crisis, and so I didn't question it a whole lot. It became a routine, ya know? Just because we're the only ones who really understand the other, like a way of letting the other know they aren't alone.

"We aren't exactly friends or anything, just...I don't know. It's weird. But I like it." I shrugged, looking up at him and stopping when I saw a smile on his face and something in his eye. I raised an eyebrow, asking defensively and for some reason with rising embarrassment, "What?" He looked at me with feighed innocence and said, eyes wide and glittery and shit,

"What? I say nothing, I think es wonderful you two have each other." But the way he said it made it sound...odd. As if he meant something else that I couldn't figure out. And probably didn't want to figure out. Besides, the other Guardians had been spying by the door long enough, and I thought it was only polite to go back to bed so they could drink some of this kick-_ass _hot coco.

"Well, thank's for the coco North..."I stopped as I slid of the chair, placing the mug on the island and then looking up at him, at his gentle smile, at his kind face, at the warmth he seemed to radiate... "..And thank you. For listening. Don't tell Pitch or I'll skewer you with a candy cane. 'Night." He was still smiling as I turned and opened the door, only offering a nod to the stunned and caught-red-handed Guardians, who all instantly jumped to the side from their crouched positions.

"Night guys." I waved, almost chuckling at their faces as I passed. I was almost to the hallway when one of them called back,

"Oi, sheila. Be up in time fer decoratin' tomorra', yer not gonna skip out on that just cuz ye had a bad dream." I paused at the opening of the hallway, looking into the darkness and knowing Pitch was just behind one of those doors, and if he could see this, if he could see this... It was different. How Bunny had said it. Just slightly, a bit more gruffly where as before it would be light and jabbing. But I could still read it, still knew what he meant, what he'd realized and was making up for.

And part of me wondered if all of this wasn't just some dream.

"Don't count on it." I called back.

"Oh! I'm sooo excited for it!" Tooth exclaimed, and I inwardly groaned. After that, I knew it may be a highly dangerous possibility that I may just cave. Maybe I'd just lock myself in an obscure room and risk getting lost forever. It was tempting.

"Yeah, me too..."I said without enthusiasm as I finally entered the hallway and made it to my room, sighing in relief at the sight of Pitch still sleeping, his head now tilted back and the hand on the bed still in place. I walked in and quietly shut the door, walking back over and climbing into the bed as silently as possible while still damn-near collapsing, eyes shutting the second I placed my head on the pillow.

"How was your midnight walk?" Shit.

"Go to bed."

"I could say the same to you."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too, dear. Now go the hell to sleep."

At some point during the night I'd taken Pitch's hand, or possibly the other way around, only waking once when the nightmare with it's head on Pitch's lap snorted, and me doing nothing more than shifting, holding his hand tighter, and using that wave of comfort to fall asleep. That odd feeling from before remained dormant for now, and I forgot all about it in the flurry of half-dreams and peaceful sleep.

For a night where I'd just had one of the worst nightmares of my life, it ended in the best sleep I'd ever gotten. And I'd need that sleep for tomorrow.


	10. End of a Good Dream

_-I apologize if this chapter comes out late, I had an overnight at my writing camp and am currently running on 2 1/2 hours of sleep, but your guys' comments were just so amazing and wonderful that I had to try and get this out for you. Enjoy 3-_

_~Astrid~_

"Astrid."

"Hrmph."

"Wake up."

"Hrmph."

"If you don't, I'll do it for you."

"...Hrmph."

"Very well."

The tangled nest of sheets that I'd managed to wrap around myself like a cocoon, reaching all the way up to my face, was suddenly and harshly jolted out from under me, sending me flying backwards and unrolling like a roll of carpet. I landed hard on the floor, writhing and rolling onto my back, throwing an arm over my face to block out the sudden light. The pain in the back of my head quickly faded as I seethed, jaw clenched and pride all but intact, restraining myself from the outburst of absolute fury I wanted to unleash upon him.

It was too early for homicidal tendencies.

"Oh, good. You're up. The boyscouts want us." Pitch deadpanned, and I frowned, arm flopping down next to me as I shot him a glare, seeing him leaning over me with a frown.

"I hate you more than words can explain." I said tiredly and warningly.

"I hate you too. Now stand up, it was either this or North was going to throw a bucket of eggnog on you." He explained calmly and commandingly as I groaned at the thought, pushing myself up and whining,

"I _hate _eggnog."

"Yes, we've covered the various things that you hate in the morning, now can we please get this over with so that I may go brood in some darkened corner?" Pitch asked irritatedly as I stood, adjusting my hoodie and running a hand through my hair as I yawned, walking past Pitch and to the door. By the time we'd make it to the overlook, all of the others were already there and buzzing, Tooth darting to and forth as the sound of yetis and elves echoed from all over, tinkering and shuffling below as I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, glancing over the railing for a moment.

"What's all of this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as the Yeti ran around below, some moving the work benches and tables from the area below and others with giant boxes, shaking off elves who clung to their fur or tripping as they attempted to avoid stepping on them, shouting in some different language that sounded a mix of Russian and possibly Elvish.

"Es decorations for party! This year will best last year by ten-fold! Will be great fun!" North exclaimed, proud and overzealously excited. I frowned suddenly and deflated, a feeling of mild dread settling in my stomach as I recalled that part of the conversation from this early morning.

"Oh. Party. Right." I mused, and then turned to them, Tooth zipping around in a blur to her little mini-teeth, Jack watching and laughing while Sandy offered me a smile and Aster rolled his eyes at North, painting an egg. "Listen, about that," I began, scratching the back of my head and scuffing the floor with my foot. "I'm not exactly a 'New Years', 'Celebrate with others' kinda person, ya know? I think I might just chill in my room-"

"Oh but you can't!" Tooth exclaimed, very suddenly about three centimeters away from my face, my eyes going wide and reeling backwards a bit as she said quickly with both excited and pleading eyes, practically bouncing in the air, "You need to go! It's gonna be so much fun getting ready and I even have a dress that would go perfectly with your look! And don't worry about the other spirits if they're holding grudges, you're gonna be with us! And do you think any of us would let them do anything to you?"

I opened my mouth to talk, to tell her that A) okay, maybe they did know a lot more about me now than they used to and yeah, they were pretty cool people, but B) I had the social skills of a disabled goose. There was no way I could go to a party with people and be expected to act...well...not-terrified.

"Pleeeeeease!"Tooth begged, moving a bit closer as I took a step back, tensing and trying to find something to say, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, feeling Pitch watching with amusement. I should have strangled him when I wanted to. "I haven't had the chance to bond with another girl around here in such a long time, and I've got such good ideas for hair and makeup-"

"Hair and makeup?"

"And you'll look just beautiful! Pretty please with a cherry and sugar-free whip cream on top? You have no idea how just absolutely thrilled this would make me, finally having another girl after being the only one for so long!" Her eyes were getting that big, watery look in them that made me wince and fight down that word I wanted to say, fight down that feeling of sympathy and guilt that she seemed to evoke.

"No, no don't give me that look." I warned, which only made her turn it up ten-fold, pleading with eyebrows drawn and hands clasped beneath her chin. And the others were just standing there watching. Those bastards.

I cringed, fought back against it, told myself that it was going to be the most miserable mistake I'd ever made and that I could only last about ten minutes, tops... But that freaking _face_! I let out a breath and groaned, throwing my head back and wondering why all the Guardians seemed to be so damn good in making me do things that were strictly against my own moral set of codes. I looked back at her, seeing that damned face and finally, with a catch, relenting. I held up a finger and said warningly,

"Ten minutes, then I'm out-"

"Great!"Tooth exclaimed, and suddenly exploded in joy, shooting up into the air and shooting past me and Pitch, calling back over her shoulder, "It'll be just wonderful!"

"Wonderful. I just sealed my own fate. Please someone find a way to actually kill me before this thing happens."I groaned, turning to Pitch and glaring as he gazed at his nails as if they were so fascinating. I was about to rip him a new one, but North spoke up first, a laugh in his voice as he said,

"Ah, wonderful! Now we must get things clear first, though, before we all prepare for big hooplah, no? Yes. Ze subject of creature es not to be spoken of by anyone, to anyone. If others get wind of news, vill be big fuss over what might be nothing, and tonight es time for celebration! No bad news to be delivered, by anyone. Understand?"

"Yep, gotcha!" Jack exclaimed as he jumped and tried to balance on the crook of his staff with one foot, actually managing to wobbly succeed.

"Yep."Aster mused, sounding less-than-enthusiastic about the whole thing himself, me glancing at him but him just grumbling something about 'bunch of wankers' and 'bloody groundhog'. Sandy gave a big thumbs-up and nodded his head quickly, North turning to me with a smile and raised eyebrows. I looked over at him as the butterfly and nightmare trotted into the room, the butterfly twirrling around my head as the nightmare nuzzled his face into my hand.

"What? Oh, sorry, I lost you at 'hooplah'." I said, paying attention to the nightmare. North may have been about to say something as I fought with my inner dread about what was going to happen, but Pitch managed to speak up first in a serious tone, Jack floating over to me as he did.

"Speaking of that thing, have you found anything about its origins yet, or is it still a hampster in a ball?"Pitch asked in slight distaste, me and Jack honestly, though we were concerned about this 'threat' and figuring out what those things were, not interested what-so-ever.

"No, but I have found few interesting details, such as consistency of outer-coating."

"Hey, Astrid, I've got and idea!" Jack said excitedly, face lighting up as I raised an eyebrow at him. "You should meet some friends of mine, I think they'd really like you!"

"Frostie, in case I haven't made this explicitly clear, me and spirits don't mix." I insisted, and he waved me off, cooly twirrling his staff in one hand and explaining with a half-smile,

"Nah, no spirits. Kids! Jamie and Sophie, I think you'll like them!" I frowned and absentmindedly dug my hands a bit further into the front pocket of my hoodie, shaking my head and saying a bit awkwardly,

"Uh, Jack, again, not so good with kids either. I mean other than the can't-see-me thing, I'm not exactly a 'Santa' or 'Tooth Fairy'. I think I'll pass on this one, Snowflake." But Jack seemed to resort back into his negotiation phase, jumping a bit closer to me and giving me the same excited, wide-eyed smile that Tooth did, wondering if he got it from her or vice versa, cringing inwardly at it.

"Don't worry! Jamie was the first kid to ever see me, he's special. And Sophie likes anyone! Besides, it's getting boring being stuffed up in this old place all the time, no offense North!" Jack called back the last part, but North was too busy discussing something with Pitch to notice. I paused, looking past Jack and over to the other two, something unsettling inside of me as I saw the looks on their faces.

North seemed like he was busy explaining something, but his tone was now hushed and muttering, and for North to make his booming voice quiet took some purpose, eyebrows drawn in and a frown on his face. Pitch stood with narrowed eyes, but not of hostility...not quite. Just worry, maybe, or contemplating something he rather wouldn't. His lips were thin and hands a bit too tight behind him, standing straight as ever and listening to every word, muttering something once that I couldn't catch before looking over at me, blinking once in something a bit harder than worry.

I furrowed my brow at him, asking him a silent question, but either he had been listening to our conversation or he'd picked up on minor fears, because he brushed me off and mused,

"Why don't you go frolic with that little sprite? Heaven's knows you need to get out before you actually start to _like _it." Jack rolled his eyes and North frowned a bit, but I saw a bit deeper into it. An insistance in his eyes, as if he wanted me out of here for some reason, and I became all-too interested in what it was that him and North had been talking about, still finding it odd that those two were talking at all.

Something was going on, and I felt a bit irritated that I was being kept out of it, this being my idea in the first place...sort of. But before I could ask either of them what they were saying or explain why it may very well be the worst idea ever to grace the face of the Earth to allow me around children, Jack threw away the fact that Pitch was supposed to be his enemy and went full-heartedly with his idea.

"Great! Let's go!" He exclaimed, and grabbed my upper arm as I gave him a wide-eyed look, exclaiming,

"W-wait! I didn't even- HEY!" I shouted, just as I was yanked unceremoniously up into the air and an icy cold wind whipped around me, Jack carrying me by my arm with an ease given by the wind assisting him, forgetting that I could fly, too, as I struggled and shouted at him, words lost in the winds as we broke through the hole in the roof and out into the icy North Pole.

I did not want to do this, did not want to see kids or have them see me. To be honest, I hadn't even spoken to a kid directly since...well, ever really. Not when they could hear me, at least, and I was damn sure Jack was just getting his hopes up that he could make either of them see me. And Pitch knew this. He knew I'd hate this and that seeing kids wasn't even on my list of things I want to do...

I looked back as we soared through the sky, Jack laughing and going higher and lower depending on the wind and snowfall that he lightly created, me seeing Santoff Claussen and wondering what was going on inside of it, sensing something..._off _with Pitch. Something he was hiding, or trying to get me away from for now. 'For now' being the key word. I seemed to have a knack for finding things out that Pitch didn't want me to know, one way or the other.

It was a time like this that maybe my answer would have come if I'd just thought a bit deeper. No, not a bit. A lot. About everything. The things that had happened over the past two days. The people I began to like. The views that began to change. The feelings I couldn't comprehend. The creature in the black-grey-ice prison somewhere in the workshop. Yes, if I'd put any of these things together, maybe I'd have an idea for why Pitch wasn't telling me something, or why he'd actually insisted I go with Jack Frost, the one who turned him down.

But I'd built walls by not thinking about things too much, and while the others were doing it quite well, I wasn't about to break them down on my own. So I just worried about the dance later tonight, wondering what kind of loophole I could find to get out of it and what Tooth meant by 'make up and dress up', and meeting these kids today that I hoped Jack would entertain while I just kind of sat and waited it out, hoping I didn't do something wrong, something terrible. I couldn't use anymore inner turmoil today.

_~Pitch Black~_

"If what you say es right, then you and Astrid are bigger help than we first thought." Nicholas contemplated to himself, running a hand down an unkept beard and nodding. I looking out to where those beasts were setting up for that dance tonight, the one Astrid had gotten roped into, the one I knew she was too weak to not actually go to. Now that would be an amusing sight, seeing Tooth dress her up and force her to actually associate with others while not emotionally scarring them for life. Or skewering them with a candy cane. Honestly, either would suffice for tonight's entertainment.

But there was something else darkening my thoughts, an idea that I prayed was entirely incorrect, but few of my ideas often were. I'd thought of it when Astrid told me she could smell a sort of polluted tragedy within the creatures, and then again when I noticed how, for a split second, the creature moved closer to the shadows than it did to the ice as they swarmed on it's sides when it was being imprisoned, as if moving towards a comfort, or something familiar.

I wasn't exactly sure why I'd come to North with the idea, possibly because his work actually did manage to do something for me in terms of impressiveness, the entire caged idea both dangerous and idiotic and brilliant and well-worth it. It was something I never thought would work, and yet it sat in one of his study rooms completely harmless to anyone who went over to touch it. It might also have been because the topic had come up between us. It certainly wasn't because I trusted him, nor because I thought highly of him.

I wasn't like Astrid, where I could find the good in others and latch onto it, force myself out of my old ways in order to tie alliances and possibly make life a bit more bearable. That was something uniquely her, a trait I'd outwardly mocked and inwardly admired. It was what made her trust me, afterall. Sometimes even I didn't trust me.

But the idea, as I railed my thoughts back, was something that I knew only North could keep secret, valuing the protection of his beloved Guardians as much as I did for Astrid. The idea, if correct, proved my previous theory of this being something small and inconsequential and random out the damn window. If I was correct, then something slightly more sinister and much more irritating was going on just under the cover of us not knowing who or what was running these things, or if they were doing it on their own.

Something was so unsettling about not knowing every aspect and detail of something, knowing that there was more to it we just couldn't see it yet. If my idea was correct, that was exactly what was going on, and perhaps, though I would never admit it to myself or the others, it was better that we were here. It kept Astrid within reach, protected no matter who she was with, though far less if without me.

I just sent her out now because there were some things I wanted to do, some things that if she found out, which she had the horrible habit of doing with almost everything, it would only cause her more stress, and that was one thing she did _not _need at the moment.

"Anyvays! Party starts in few hours, es time to fit you for suit!" Nicholas boomed, and I snapped my head over to him, narrowing my eyes and giving him a disgusted and incredulous look.

"Excuse me old man? _What_ did you just say?" I snapped, but he seemed oblivious and actually spun me around and wrapped a massive, meaty arm around my shoulders, me trying to fight out of his grasp and failing quite miserably. I was a King of Nightmares, not a damn grizzly bear, which I figured was the only thing that could escape this man's grasp.

"Hah! Calling me old! You are far more ancient than me old friend! Now I see your color es black, but may I suggest a hint of something red? Vill bring out broodiness of your face wonderfully!" He exclaimed, and I felt dread fall in my gut, starring in horror at the hall ahead of us. He did not seriously mean...but...Astrid was one thing, but I would never...they didn't use brute force with her!

I hung my head and grit my teeth as he continued to talk, my heels grinding into the ground but not slowing him in the least. I could not allow this to happen. I would not be subject to this humiliation!...Astrid would never let me hear the end of it!

_~Astrid~_

I sat on the roof of a house and watched as Jack led the kids through an opening of trees and into a wide-open clearing, different from the one I'd first spoken to him in, having taken my perch upon arrival. Yes, I would be here, but no, I would not associate with them. It wasn't that I didn't like the kids. Hell, the little girl couldn't be anymore precious, still wide-eyed and capable of dreaming, sandy yellow hair that she'd cut herself, much like I had. And her brother, a few years older, was almost as wide-eyed as her, laughing and running around with Jack like they were old friends, his brown hair mussed with snow as Jack ground some into their playfully.

It was just that I liked these kids too much to put them in that kind of danger. So I just kind of sat and watched them play absentmindedly, one arm slung across a knee and the other leg out straight, leaning back and smiling as the little girl nailed her brother in the back with a kick of snow, just as Jack glanced up at me. And I did not like the look in his eyes. It was a look of mischief. I raised an eyebrow at him as he knelt in front of Jamie, calling over Sophie and began to whisper to them.

I sat a bit straighter and looked at them suspiciously, resting my chin in the palm of my hand as a cold breeze blew by, heading towards Jack and almost knocking me off the roof.

"Watch it!"I Shouted after it, but it ignored me as it made it's way to Jack, rustling leaves on trees as he jumped up onto it, the kids with their hands over their eyes for some reason. Jack whispered one more thing while holding up a finger, and then turned and shot up towards me, staff slung across his shoulder and a jumpy, excited look in his eyes. I quirked my eyebrow suspiciously and asked as he got up to the roof,

"What's with the grin, Snowflake?"

"C'mon!" Was all he said, jumping in the air and holding his hand out for me. I rolled my eyes and stood up, taking a step back and saying, holding my hands out with smoke drifting from my palms for emphasis, wondering how many times I'd have to say this to get it through his head,

"Jackie, I'm not going anywhere near those kids. It's not like I can play with them. I can't _touch _them, and vice versa." But even as I spoke, Jack smirked, holding the staff out above him and twirrling it hard, snow falling above him as he held his hand out, one strong circle of it around him and no where else, quickly gathering a good-sized clump in his hand in a few moments. He ceased the twirrling and slung the staff onto his shoulder, using both hands to pack the snow together.

I watched with growing caution and unease, wondering what this kid was thinking and how it could possibly-

SPLAT.

...

"Jack, have I ever told you how close you come to death on a daily basis?" I asked, eye twitching as I drug my hand over my face, removing the icy snow from my skin and shaking it from my hair, trying not to reach out and knock the kid right out of the sky, just hearing his laughter as he reached out his hand and exclaimed, jumping and smirking as I glared at him, wondering if he knew who he'd just thrown a freaking SNOWBALL at,

"C'mon! That's what I mean! You don't have to touch them, just play in the snow! That way you're not touching them, right?" I paused, opening my mouth to contradict him, but coming up with nothing better than,

"...They can't see me!" It was the only argument I could make. Powers didn't transcend each other normally, Jack and Pitch's nightmare ice being an exception. But still...they were kids. Kids. I hadn't played with kids in this lifetime, not once, and not even that often in the last! I didn't know they worked, how they thought, how they had fun. All I knew was how fragile they were. How defenseless.

"I can make them." Jack's words brought me back, and I gave him an incredulous look, wondering if he knew what he was saying. But his face showed nothing other than promise, excitement, and a whispered promise full of nostalgia and pride. As if he actually believed in his own words. As if he thought he could make the children see me. As if he thought I could actually play with them.

"Jack..."I said warily, looking back at the kids who stood patiently with their hands over their eyes, the little girl crouching on the ground after awhile, little pink fairy wings on over a pink winter jacket. She was so small, her tragedies would seem so small to others, but to her...

"C'mon, I promise you'll have fun. It's my center, afterall." Jack bragged, holding his arms out in signal to himself as I looked back at him, conflicted. I bit my lips, hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket, looking from him to the kids. Thinking of all the things I could do, of all the time I hadn't played with children...

Snow. Just snow, though. And I had wondered what it would be like, if they were just children and didn't completely understand...and I wasn't feeling too out-of-control, so the odds...

Hell. I'd done crazier things.

"Prove it, Frostbite." I said to him challengingly, and the tone of my voice made him burst into a smile, jumping backwards as I jumped forwards on a thin layer of smoke, following him downwards over the tops of the trees and into the clearing, me ghosting over the ground as I looked at the kids close-up, seeing their tiny freckles and excited grins.

I dropped to the ground just as the worry began to settle in, the nervousness that made me want to puke or have a heart attack or something. Not exactly fear yet, but almost there, something Pitch would be able to feel if he tried. Oh no, please don't let him see me throwing snowballs if this worked. He'd never let me live it down.

Jack walked ahead of me and knelt in front of the kids, talking in a hushed and excited tone that made both of them perk up, jumping up and down excitedly as I writhed in nerves, thinking of all the worst things that could happen.

"Hey guys, remember that surprise I just promised you? Well...it's right in front of you. No, no, don't open your eyes yet! See, it's a new friend, okay? You can't touch her, she's nervous, but she's gonna play with us. Her name is 'Astrid', and she's a spirit just like me! She can fly and everything! So you guys gotta see her, alright? She's right in front of you...just believe." He whispered in a hushed tone that even captivated me, my heart pounding in my ears, palms sweating in my pockets.

"Can we open our eyes, Jack?" Jamie, the boy, asked excitedly, and for a moment I almost wondered if maybe, possibly...

"Open!" Both pairs of eyes flickered open, and I wanted to run. Wanted to hide. Wanted to do something other than be here with my heart pounding so hard that it hurt, never wanting this, never asking for this, wondering why I was even here. This wasn't a good idea. They wouldn't see me, who would? That was ridiculous. That was impossible.

"...Pretty!" The little girl jumped up and down in the air and shouted the word in a way that was slightly slurred and impedimented, the adorable way that young girls talk. And my heart just up and stopped, my eyes flew wide, and my mouth hung open. A prickling sensation seemed to run through my body in that instant, something not uncomfortable but foreign, light, almost...warm. They both looked at me. _At me._

"Hi! I'm Jamie!" The boy exclaimed excitedly, waving a mitted hand as he smiled, two front teeth missing. The little girl hopped up and down still and exclaimed slightly shy, slightly excited, excited to see me, excited to play with me,

"Sophie! Sophie!" The boy laughed and pointed to his sister, saying,

"Oh yeah, this is my little sister Sophie. So you're gonna play with us?" I paused, the prickling becoming a full warmth, radiating from my stomach to my feet and hands, up my spine, into my chest and head. And a light. A bright light, but not blinding. One that made everything...almost not so dark and scary. Like a nightlight. Like something inside of me was finally flickered on after billions of years in the dark, and I was feeling light, a tightness in my chest that made me almost...almost smile. No, correction. I did make me smile. And laugh quietly. And I had no freaking idea why. I just knew it felt amazing, and wonderful, and spontaneous, and I found that for the first time, I didn't care.

Didn't care about why, or how, or if it were dangerous. No, this felt innocent. This felt safe. This felt wonderful. It felt like beginning. It felt like..._fun._

"Yeah-"

SPLAT.

The kids laughter snorted out as I spun to Jack, who was throwing another snowball up in the air lazily, eyebrow quirked as if to say 'see?' in the cockiest way possible. And something inside of me responded. Something I remember having at one point, but not when or what it was. Something dormant in this lifetime and too old to remember, but coming back as if it had never left in the first place.

And I smiled lopsidedly, reaching down and scooping up a pack of snow, forming it like I'd seen Jack do.

"Oh Frostbite, you don't know who you're messin' with!" I exclaimed.

And then it began.

Jack ran as Jamie and Sophie screamed in delight, half-excitement and half-laughter, all of it mixing in the air and coating us with euphoria and nostalgia. I laughed almost harder than all of them, skidding to a stop to avoid getting hit with a snowball and then chucking my own, missing Jack but hitting Jamie, who laughed as he fell down and then proceeded to target me.

And it was almost as if I didn't need to learn how to play. As if it were a skill we all had and just kept inside of us, denying. It all came back like an old memory, and everything just kind of clicked, and there was no worrying or fear or creatures or stress or Aster or MiM. There were snowballs and fun and laughter and cold and falling and smiling until our faces hurt and then some.

"Heads up!" Jack shouted from behind me, just as he nailed me in the back of the head with a snowball. I spun around and looked down at Sophie, who was cradling a snowball of her own. I looked from her to Jack, and smiled as an idea formed in my head. I knelt down and got eye-level with her, asking quietly,

"Hey Sophie, wanna help me out?" She beamed and shook her head violently, and I grinned, nodding to Jack and whispering my plan to her as he focused on chasing Jamie, icing the ground beneath him and taking him on a trip in a circle, the young boys' laughter screaming out and making the air lighter, brightening the world around us. Once I was done, Sophie nodded quickly and I winked at her, nodding my head over as she turned and began to run.

I shot up into the sky and flew way over Jack's head as he focused on Sophie, play-running backwards in the air as I flipped and dropped down right behind him, scooping up some snow as he got closer and closer, grin almost a laugh that I had to keep down as, just as he got two yards away, I pulled my arm back and shouted,

"Heads up, Frostbite!" He spun around in shock and, with one solid throw, got nailed right in the face. He paused, as if shocked that I'd actually managed to do that, and then laughed in a way that only Jack Frost could, in a way that was light as snow and feral as a boy who slept in trees.

"I'll get you for that one! Jamie!" He shouted, and ducked, revealing the young boy behind him who, like Sophie and I, had worked out a plan. My eyes widened and I dropped to my feet on the ground, crouching just as the ball of snow flew over my head in a rather impressive throw, hitting something solidly behind me, the sound of breaking snow and gasps ringing out in front of me.

I looked forward and raised an eyebrow, seeing Jamie with wide eyes, Jack pressing his hand hard to his mouth to stop himself from laughing, Sophie gasping and jumping up and down, pointing behind her excitedly.

"Bunny! Hop, hop, hop!"

I turned around in surprise, only to copy Jack's exact stance, fist pressed to my mouth as I smiled and painfully held back a fit of laughter, other arm wrapping around my mid-section. Maybe it was something in the air, but nothing about this was menacing or painful. This was freaking hilarious.

Aster glared and growled as the snow fell off his face, pieces sticking to his wiskers and making them twitch, which made me snort in laughter as I tried to regain control of myself, taking in a deep breath and saying between snorts,

"Y-you l-l-look a little chilly A-Aster. Jack F-Frost b-b-bite you n-nose?" His eyes widened as Jack burst into laughter behind me, Jamie following soon after as Sophie ran right past me, jumping up and down and surprising Aster, her arms held up high with a bright sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Hop hop hop!" She exclaimed again in broken English, me watching her with a smile before looking up at Aster... And it took my breath away. Literally, and I didn't mind. Because I was caught somewhere between shock and elation, nostalgia and laughing and crying. It all mixed inside of me, all at once, and I couldn't guard the look on my face as he looked at her with that _smile._

And it was his. No doubt, not a shadow of one, that was his. It belonged to _Aster_. It always had, but I'd thought, after everything, that maybe it was lost. That he, like me, had just changed too much. That it had died along with his memory. That I'd never get to see it again. But I was wrong. There it was.

His eyes sparkled, glinting against the diamond-reflection of the snow, squinting like they always used to, as if they were smiling too. His lips were different, but they curved up just like they used to, and I could almost envision what it used to look like beneath fur and whiskers, the gentle look of pure, unsheltered joy and love and adoration. It wasn't towards me, but it was there. That's all I ever wanted. To know it was still there.

He leaned down and lifted Sophie, holding her in his arms as she nuzzled into his chest, smiling happily as he laughed lightly. His laugh. Aster's, not the Easter Bunny's.

"Hey there, anklebita', what kinda trouble you gettin' yerself inta?" He asked jokingly, and she bounced as she pointed to me and exclaimed,

"Pretty, pretty!" Aster followed where she was pointing, and when his eyes fell one me they went wide, jaw falling open a bit. I scratched the back of my head and laughed nervously, that feeling still in the air as I smiled at Sophie and winked, then looked back up at Aster with an awkward smile, shrugging and nodding to Jack somewhere behind me.

And then he smiled.

I copied his look of surprise. Because there it was. At me. Me. He was smiling at me with that smile and those eyes and suddenly everything good finally came back, wrapping around me like a blanket of warmth and comfort because...because he was smiling like he was proud of me. That smile.

"Congrats, sheila. Got yerself yer own little fanclub, huh?" He asked smiling, and I couldn't do anything but laugh breathily and shrug again, saying a bit quietly, almost to myself because...wasn't that exactly what I had? Was that what had just happened?...

"Yeah. Yeah I guess so."

"Not gonna look so scary anymore, huh?" He asked in a challenging way, a way that changed everything. And I smiled back, winking at him and scooping up a snowball, saying right back,

"I'll show you scary, Aster!"

"C'mon then, ya gumbie!" He shouted with a smile, and hopped around me with Sophie, the child's screams of delight filling the forest as the Easter Bunny cradled her in her arms, having a snowball fight with her brother and Jack Frost and me...

And suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. As if this was how it was supposed to be. Should be. And I questioned nothing.

Jamie ran from Jack as I aimed at Aster, nailing him in the ear as he shouted 'Crikey!' and shook it out, setting down Sophie who laughed and ran around him, me turning just as Jamie got in a pretty good hit to my chest, grinning as I laughed and exclaimed,

"You'll pay for that one, kiddo!" I reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, morphing it into a snowball as Jack ran around, trailing his staff across the ground and creating almost twenty snowballs, ready for him and Jamie as I jumped back and laughed.

"No fair!" I shouted, pulling my arm back and throwing it, Jamie ducking and clipping my shoulder with his next one, the snow covering my hoodie and creeping down my neck.

"I make my own rules, wasn't that what you said before the race?" Jack asked slyly, and I pointed to him, opening my mouth to say something witty, when something else happened. Two arms wrapped around my calf and an innocent-sweet voice exclaimed,

"Pretty! Tag!"

And then everything shattered.

I gasped and jumped forward, landing hard on my arms as a pillar of smoke shot up angrily and shocked between me and Sophie, a shout and then a loud 'oof!' as, from behind the translucent screen, I saw Aster jump forward and snatch Sophie away just in time. I panicked, seeing the smoke, hearing Sophie and Jamie, and instantly throwing my arm out, all of the smoke instantly shooting into my hand and sleeve like a vaccume, dissipating in seconds and leaving me with a clear view of what had just happened.

It had been less than three seconds, but it had happened, and it had been terrible, and it broke whatever magic there had just been. It left the shattered remains and fear and shock and horrible, horrible guilt. I shook on the ground, not from the cold but from what had almost happened, propped up on my elbows as Aster cradled Sophie, who was looking around confused and worried. And I wanted to die right then and there.

Because I knew this was going to happen. I fucking _knew it_. Why the hell did I keep doing these things?! Now...now...

"Astrid-"

"Jack, take 'em home." Aster said seriously, cutting off Jamie as I continued to stare at the stop there the wall of smoke had shot up, knowing that if Aster hadn't been there in time, if he'd been too late... Jack quickly took Sophie, saying something comforting to her as she waved goodbye to me, me not even able to recognize it as I trembled in horror and disgust at what I almost did. I heard the crunching of feet, felt a chill wind, only when I knew they were gone did I dare to stand shakily and slowly, dazed and just...out of it. I couldn't believe...had I really just...I just didn't want her to...

"The bloody hell was that, huh?" His voice was harsh, rough. I'd ruined it. I looked down at my hands in horror as I slowly turned my body towards him, shaking my head numbly. Sophie, how innocent she was.

"I...I didn't mean to..."

"Whadda ya mean ya didn't mean to? Then explain how that happened! Ya know what could have happened to Sophie?!" He accused, me starring wide-eyes at my trembling palms. Yes, yes I knew what could have happened, and the pain and guilt and horror and disgust built up inside of me, pressing against my ribcage and about to shatter it, something darker and hotter twisting in my gut with every words he spoke.

"I was just trying to...she touched me, I didn't want her to-"

"Want her ta touch the bloody smoke? Seems like ya did a crook job of that!" He shouted, accusingly, full of anger and spite, and I took in a breath but it caught, and I tried to fight it but I couldn't, because I kept playing that scene over and over again, her confused face, Aster's smile being wiped out, Jack taking them back, her still waving at me, what I'd almost done, and now this. _This_. And I'd ruined it, ruined everything, and it had been so good, felt so good, and now...

Now he was shouting at me, and though I was hating myself, though I was disgusted at myself and my fear and everything, though it was all at me, I took it out on him. Because it had all built up inside of me and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I'd held it in for so long, and I thought I could, I thought I was strong enough, but I wasn't. I was too weak to keep it in any longer, and even wrapping my arms around myself wasn't going to help, but I did it anyway, even as I let it out through my mouth, even as I clenched my eyes shut and shouted, fighting back tears,

"I tried not to hurt her! I fucking tried, okay?! She _touched _me and I wasn't expecting it and so I jumped because I was trying to _protect_ her! I didn't mean for that to happen! You think I can fucking control it?! You think I _asked _for this?! Do you?! I was having fun! I was happy! They saw me! I would never do that! Never!"

"Then why didja, huh?" Aster spat bitterly, and I flinched, arms tightening, holding it in, I didn't want to break, not like this, but I couldn't help it. He was just there and not there anymore and he had been and I'd taken him away and...and... "I knew takin' ya in was a crook idea. You've been nothin' but trouble since the day I eva' met ya! When have ya eva' done any good, huh?!"

The pain ripped through me, and I had to scream before it over flowed, before something cracked.

"Never! Never, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"I snapped suddenly and harshly, voice cracking as I looked up at him, his glare back again, almost too much, almost, him reeling back a bit in surprise but I kept going, I had to. "Do you want me to list off to you all the terrible things I've done, huh?! Because they go on for a long fucking time, okay! I never asked for this! I never wanted any of this! I just wanted to be _normal _and have my family back! I just want my fucking family back!"

His eyes widened, the glare still there, but something else under it that I couldn't see, something darker, something that pulled down the corners of his brows and lips.

"...Family?" He whispered, and I let out a frustrated yell, taking a step towards him and shouting, voice cracking horribly as I let it all out, hurt and cracking and not thinking straight and not able to feel anything but guilt and pain and wanting to cry and about to cry and it all just _hurt_.

"You don't remember _anything_, DO YOU?!" I screamed, because I just had to know. Had to know if there really wasn't any part of me he even tried to hang onto. If walking through me was really him walking through me and leaving me behind, all of me, all of everything that had ever happened. I just had to know.

"If ya want me ta rememba' somethin' so bloody bad, then _make me_." He growled daringly, and in and instant I raised a fist, fast and tight and angry, reeling it almost to the side of my face, smoke twisting around it angrily, darker than the rest, fast and energized and damn-near buzzing, his eyes narrowed and I was about to do it and...

His eyes. The same color. That smile that was still there but wasn't there any more. Because of me. Because I did something horrible. Something I never would have done. And then this. Remembering wasn't the same as being told, or being shown the worst parts. And I laughed. It sounded hollow. It sounded broken and unfamiliar. I looked down, closed my eyes and shook my head, body still trembling, blood buzzing with the aftermath of anger and energy, and I could only manage a whisper, the smoke trailing back into my sleeve, arm dropping limply to my side.

"...After everything you've done..." I shook my head again and looked up at him with a self-depreciating, bitter smile that felt so wrong and painful, "...I couldn't do that to you."

I didn't give him time to say anything else, because I could feel it all reeling back. It was still there. It was still too much. It was still cracking and pushing and I couldn't hold it in anymore, but I couldn't be near him when it happened. I'd done enough.

With a frustrated shout, one that alleviated none of it, just made it worse, I snapped and shot sideways, smoke billowing out behind me and to my sides as I flew fast and with wind whipping past my face, into the treeline and under the darkness of the canopy. Everything was dark. Everything was hidden. But I couldn't keep it up for long. No, I was trembling, I was too weak, everything hurt too much and his words shouted in my head, Sophie's face ghosting into my conscience, Jamie's terrified voice, Aster's glare.

I couldn't pinpoint when I'd fallen off of the smoke, just knew that I was now running on foot, shoving myself away from trees as branches whipped across my face, the cuts healing almost immediately as I ran, tripping, eyes closed, blindly barrelling through until, finally, I opened them just enough to see as small little break in trees, not more than a few feet wide and long, but with a larger rock growing in a corner of it. I couldn't go any further, felt that I was far enough, and slammed my hand onto the side of the rock as I collapsed onto my knees, leaning against the cold surface and doubling over.

I hyperventilated, wheezing and coughing, the pain white-hot and blinding, a cry ripping from my throat as I clenched my ribs as tight as possible, trying to protect myself from erupting, from anything else that would try to hurt me, too. As if arms around my ribs could stop words. Could stop memories. Could erase images. Could remove guilt and pain.

I'd almost hurt Sophie. I wasn't like the others, who couldn't hurt the kids if they wanted to, because they were so kind and loving and innocent and trusting and loving and I just _wasn't, _I could never be, because I was this freak, this monster. A monster that almost hurt her. A monster that almost hurt Aster. A monster that..that...

I cried out as hands grabbed my shoulder, trying to throw myself back but the hands gripping me roughly and forcing me up until I was almost straight, fighting to curl back up, to hide within myself, everything in my head painful and blinding and my breathing didn't sound right, sounded hitched and pained and forced, as if my body didn't want to breathe anymore but couldn't stop, couldn't decide what it wanted.

The hands ripped at my arms and I cried out again, incoherently and accepting that I'd lost it, that I wasn't going to be collected or strong anymore, that for right now I needed to break down, to get it all out before it ripped out of me.

"Stop it, Astrid!" I heard Pitch's voice snap harshly, and I grit my teeth, throwing my head down as he took my arms away, trying to tell him no, if he did that then I'd break, if he did that it would all just crack past me and flow out. But he instantly yanked me forward until I had my body pressed to his, his legs around me as his arms instantly provided the support I needed. One wrapped so tightly around my ribs that it held everything in. The other laced through the hair on the back of my head and pressing me to him, as if he wanted me there, as if he knew, as if he were going to protect me.

But I didn't deserve it. Not after what I'd done. I let a sob out again and squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to cry but about to, so close to. A chin rested on top of my head, voice soft and familiar, sending a shiver down my spine as the comfort fell over me, and I greedily and brokenly fell into it,

"Shh...Astrid, it's okay...it's okay, it's just me...you don't have to be strong right now...let it out...it's okay." It was elegant and soft and nothing that anyone would ever expect from the Nightmare King, but it was there and I fell into it like it was a blanket, hands instantly finding place on his robe and balling my fists into it, holding on tightly and pressing my face into his chest, his warmth surrounding me and I stopped caring. I just. Stopped. Caring.

I felt the tears roll down my face, and when they started they couldn't stop. I sobbed, breath hitching inward and making broken noises on the way out, tears falling hard with every convulsion of my body, pressing my eyes closed through the tension as it all twisted inside of me, tight and overwhelming, but Pitch held it all in himself. He embraced me tighter, held me tighter with every tremble and shake until I felt like I was secure, like he really wasn't going to let go and I was anchored to him.

And I felt safe, I felt protected. Because he was there, and he was the only one who could hold it in and let it out at the same time like this, he was the only one I could press myself to like a support and not feel afraid, the only one who ever could. Who ever would. It was familiar. Black, the smell of musky books and darkness and caves and silt. And I wracked my body against his as it all ran through me harshly. Aster. Jamie. Jack. Smoke. MiM. Sophie. Monster. Disgust. Ruin. Broken. Guradians. Nightmares. Creatures. Conflicted. Memory. Forgetting. Not able to forget. Tragedy.

"Shh...shh...hush now, it's all going to be okay." He whispered, rocking me back and forth slowly and slightly, a repetitive movement that almost lulled me, almost, until I remembered his words about how I almost hurt her and I never did anything good and he was right and I cried because I never did anything good and-

"Astrid, I've got you...it's okay, hush now, I've got you...I'm right here, I'm not leaving, you're okay...shh, you've got to let it out. Don't think, just let it out. I've got you." Pitch said quietly, urgently and insisting, arm tighter around me and hand in my hair lacing downwards and pressing hard as he moved it down my neck and across my shoulders until I cried out again, that my only form of communication, and he instantly laced it through my hair again and pressed me to him. I just needed to be near him, anchored to him, because if I was alone I'd break and he was keeping me together.

Don't think. Just let it out. So I did.

I cried, make broken sobbing noises, tears running down my face until it was a wet, slick trail down my face, the snow on my hoodie melting between me and Pitch, making me shiver from cold and fear and shock, but at the same time his warmth invading and soothing it, soothing it all with him just being there, just his presence, the fact that it was Pitch and it was okay because, with him, it always had been. He made everything okay by just holding me. Just being there when I needed him, because he knew when I needed him.

I burrowed my face into the space just below his collarbone and he rocked me back and forth, whispering little things that made my spine shiver and me burrow closer until it was impossible, until my tears fell onto his robe, but he didn't seem to care. He was there. And, slowly, he was making it better. My chest and stomach convulsed, pushing out air but no sobs. I didn't have the energy left for that. It had all run out, and now I just felt empty and stretched out, loose and tired. Soon I wasn't burrowing myself towards him, but resting myself, the tears falling as an afterthought and soon not at all.

My muscles relaxed tiredly, and my breathing was normal, spare a few hiccups every now and again. Pitch's strong arm slowly, gradually, softened, until he could run his fingertips up and down my spine like he always did. It was familiar and comforting, and sent a calming shiver up and down my neck and back. Light fingertips creating a trail as the hand in my hair moved down, pressing to the back of my neck and cooling it a bit.

My hands in his robe relaxed, and I even had the mind to smooth out the wrinkles, running my hands tiredly up and down his chest until I just rested them there, closing my eyes and breathing normally, never wanting sleep more than right here, right now.

"Astrid, we need to go back." Pitch whispered, and I barely had the energy to shake my head, rubbing against his chest as he continued stroking my back like a child, but I didn't care. Didn't have the energy. "If you're not by by the time the party starts, Toothiana will have a fit... It will be fine. It doesn't start for a few hours. You will go back and take a nap, and I will be there with you. You will wake up, that woman-bird will torture you, and then you will spend ten minutes amusing me with your dazzling social skills, and then return to bed.

"You wont see him. They wont hate you. They, of all people, will understand. You don't even have to talk about it. But you must get back, if you stay out here you'll catch a cold, I don't care how immortal you are." His words held room for no argument, as if I could fight against them anyway. I literally felt like someone had wrung me out and now had no room for anything. I'd get feeling back, like a numb arm during sleep, but for right now I just didn't feel I had enough energy to fight against him.

Besides, a nap sounded nice.

I leaned back, his hands both shifting to hold my face, and he did something he'd never done before. Partially because I'd never let him see me cry, but also because he'd never been this...well, intimate. It was odd, if I could think anything at the moment, but something small. Something comforting. It felt right. He wiped my tears from my face with his thumbs until my face was relatively dry, eyes downcast.

"Look at me." He whispered, and I did, just from the sudden urgency of his voice. His eyes were insistent, serious, and I was surprised at how incredibly convincing they truly were. I'd never seen this look on his face. 100% urgent. He held my face harder in his palms, making sure I heard, making sure this got through to me.

"You are _not _a monster." His voice was surprisingly earnest, and left no room for argument. I didn't want to argue. It rustled that old, odd feeling in my chest. Something once foreign and terrifying. Now, feeling nothing but fatigue...it felt nice. It felt warm, and comforting, as if letting me know the world hadn't ended. Not yet. I was safe here.

"Do you understand?" He demanded, and I looked at him a bit curiously, wondering where this sudden seriousness was coming from, but slowly nodded all the same. He relaxed, as if the answer were something he was desperately hoping for, and then brought one hand out to his side, a wave of shadow, not nightmare sand, billowing out like a curtain and enveloping us.

The darkness was soothing, and I rested my head on his chest again. His arms wrapped around me in a loose but rooting hold, reassuring me that he was still there. Because I needed him there. Because he always was, and always would be. And I might regret this later, when I looked back and felt embarrassed, but he wouldn't. He understood. He didn't need me to be strong right now, and understood that I wasn't going to be. And that's all I needed. A Boogeyman to protect me when everything fell.

"I hate you." He whispered, but it wasn't harsh, wasn't angry. It was almost, impossibly, a term of affection. A nickname almost. Something between us. And I relaxed and sighed, nodding as I muttered, needing that nap now as he moved us through shadows, feeling him lacing them together to make a path,

"I hate you too, Boogeyman."


	11. Easy

_-Going to try to get this out as soon as possible, just because the party scene was one of those scenes I wanted to make__reeeeally__good and I didn't want to be tired writing it. Also one of you requested it be longer, so I'll try my best! Your comments are just making me all feels and wonderful! Enjoy 3-_

_~Astrid~_

I have lived through almost every decade of history that this planet has ever had. I have seen the most horrible wars, been through my own hell, witnesses acts of terror and debauchery, and even helped inspire Edgar Allen Poe. I have lived the brightest and darkest times of history with a front-row seat, done reconnaissance when tragedy got too out-of-hand and damn-near gave myself a mental breakdown in the process. I was friends with the Nightmare King.

But I had never been so terrified as I was right now, with Tooth darting around me like a blur, throwing something black over my head after forcing me from my usual clothing, cinching it around my waist and making me almost heave for air. I could do nothing but inwardly panic and cringe as she kept me faced away from the mirror on the door, only allowing me to face the green-and-purple hued room as she held my face and put some sort of make up on it, me cringing and shouting out as she attempted to put on something black around my eyelids.

"Oh sweetie, it's just eyeliner! It'll bring out that beautiful green! Now hold still, I don't wanna poke you!" She said cheerily, that smile on her face having been there from the moment Pitch allowed her to wake me up after the best nap of possibly my entire life, still feeling a bit off-center.

"Poke me?!" I exclaimed, but she brushed me off and carefully applied the stick of black to my lower lid, me cringing and blinking until she lightly scolded me, huffing and trying to remain still as she did the easier upper lid with some liquid version. Things were brushed, blotted, and blended onto my face until I was about to secretly brush it off when she wasn't looking, having never actually worn make up before.

With something metal and hot, she curled small, certain pieces of my hair, or what I could see of them, and then shot back as she readied everything else. It had gone on like this for what felt like hours, standing on the circular carpet of her room and shifting from foot-to-foot when she got too close. Luckily, she noticed a bit of my discomfort and tried to keep a bit of a distance, something her and North seemed to be gradually improving at. And, to be honest, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

It was pure torture, but at least it wasn't like how I'd expected it to be. It was worried that Pitch might have told them something about...what had happened. Or Bunny, at least. And part of me felt that something _had _been said, a general knowledge that nothing seemed to slip past North or Tooth, but if they had heard something, or suspected something at least, they said nothing about it. That much I could deal with.

What I could not deal with was heels.

"I'm going to die. I'm the most immortal of all the immortals, and this is gonna kill me. Oh god." I deadpanned, almost falling flat onto my face four times before Tooth sighed and finally switched them with something a lot shorter, a pair of black shoes with a small grey bow on the sides and a slight, 3-inch heal that I could deal with.

I stood awkwardly, arms tight and hands splayed out on the sides of the dress, Tooth never letting me look down to get a good look at it, only knowing that it was black with thin straps and went to my ankles, an outfit I was incredibly uncomfortable in, having spent all of eternity in jeans, a tribal top, and a hoodie. This was legitimately the first time I'd ever worn a dress, and I now knew why. It just felt too...loose. Like if I jumped...well...bad things would happen! It would fly up and...oh god, just no. No, I was seriously regretting doing this.

"Tooth, is it absolutely necessary that I go out-"

"Yes! Now hold on, close your eyes!" She exclaimed, and I paused suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at her. She flew forward, wearing her own light-purple sundress that went low in the back to accomidate her wings, fluttering gracefully around her as she moved. For a moment I wanted to ask her how she'd even had anything this incredibly black at her disposal, but thought better of it. She'd either make me feel guilty by saying she'd made it, or talk my ear off about a tale of retrieving it. I'd rather cut my losses.

I sighed finally and closed my eyes, hearing her give a little squeak of excitement and placing her tiny hands on my arms, turning me around almost too quickly, the tu-tu-like fabric of the dress flaring out a bit as she faced me to the mirror. I squirmed a bit awkwardly, just hoping I didn't look as ridiculous as I felt, hightly doubting it. I'd never worn makeup, never gotten my hair curled, never worn a dress or heels. I saw women who tried too hard and those that tried too little, and I preferred to stay on the latter.

But I'd promised Tooth, and whatever it was that she had going for her was strong, because I didn't want to break that promise. And that was terrifying. But not as terrifying as wearing heels.

"Okay, open!" She squeaked, and I slowly, one-by-one, opened my eyes.

And I stared back at myself from the reflection. But it was...a different me. Which was a relief, because I thought I'd look completely different...but it was just so...so..._weird_. I wasn't the straight-haired, baggy-clothed, slouching Astrid that I had come to know and tolerate with mild self-hatred. I was...an Astrid that I didn't know _what _to think about. I looked like a girl going to prom, but somehow more...what was that word Pitch used when he was being an ass?...oh yeah, 'elegant'.

But how I could look elegant I wasn't exactly sure. I flew over continents on smoke. I was the epitome of angst. I fought like a guy. I was infamous for being an anarchist. I caused trouble and tragedy wherever I went. I cussed like a sailor...

But right now, I looked like all of that, but pulled together in a girl who was actually...a girl. Tooth had worked wonders, and I questioned whether she didn't have some sort of magic potion that actually made me pay attention to my face for the first time in possibly ever, because now I had a reason to.

She'd curled my hair in a way that wasn't overly-curled, just slight waves in the front and a few smaller ones near the sides, actually making my bangs look relatively alright. My face was still as pale as usual, and she hadn't put any makeup on my skin other than a faint pink tint, and I had to admit that the eyeliner actually did look pretty alright, coming to an upward point at the edges. She'd put something black on my eyelashes that made them look a bit longer than normal, but overall the eyes weren't overly-done like I'd seen on some girls. Thin lines, but they made a world of difference. She'd even put a hint of pink on my lips.

And then there was the dress, which showed curves I didn't even know I had. It was tied in the back, Tooth fixing the thin bow behind me as I observed myself in awe and trepidation. The entire dress was black, a straight neckline, and there was one dark-grey bow on my upper hip where the tool-like fabric started, going almost straight down and not like a giant cupcake like I'd expected Tooth to put me, the edges overlapping each other and looking torn but not in a disheveled kind of way. An elegant way.

From head to toe, I recognized myself, I wasn't a different person, but I...I looked...differently pretty. It felt ridiculously odd calling myself pretty, and I didn't want to seem too conceited, so I tried to search for a word for what I was seeing, what Tooth had created, seeing the fairy out of the corner of my eyes fluttering impatiently, hands clasped hard under her chin as she waited for my response. I thought and thought, but could only come up with one thing.

"...Woah."

"Do you like it?!" Tooth exclaimed, shooting next to me and looking into the mirror with me. I saw my face, surprised and off-guard, which normally would look awkward on my face but now looked as elegant as this entire look made me feel.

"Y-yeah...yeah, I do." I said, surprising myself. Did I like it? Well...I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what pretty was, what beauty was, what I was supposed to look like or want to look like. I just knew getting by. I just knew baggy clothes and fighting and being a stereotypical 'tomboy'. Luckily, Tooth changed the subject quickly by pointing out something I'd actually completely forgotten about.

"Hey, what are these? I didn't notice them before because they're so faint but...wow! These look like Bunny's!" Tooth exclaimed, keeping her hand a distance from my arm but still pointing a slight finger at them, curling in the air and cocking her head to the side in a very bird-like movement. I paused, looking in the mirror at what she saw.

Three faint, light-blue markings on both my arms, thin lines making three downward-pointing arrows, the outline of the top of a floral-design above the top one. Yes, they were familiar. Thinner than his, much lighter now that it was in the correct lighting, but still there. And in a quick moment of panic, I wondered if he'd be out there. If he'd be angry, resentful, if he'd see these...

"...They're nothing." I muttered quietly, and Tooth either didn't notice or didn't care, because she suddenly shot to the door and flung it open, the sounds of voices suddenly cascading up from the lower floors, pooling up and washing over the outlook just a few steps down the hall to our right, into the room. And my chest seized up, teeth clenching as I suddenly had to shove down a thousand different fears, none of which intimidation from the spirits themselves, but of the fact that I was going out, going to see them, they were going to see me, and after all that I'd gone through I didn't know if I was emotionally ready for this yet...

"Pitch is waiting." Tooth said in a coy, sly voice that was insinuating something, and I felt a real blush under the pink she'd added to my face, looking at her surprised and confused, wondering what she meant by that, why she had that coy little smile on her face. She didn't give me time to think, either, because she quickly waved a hand in a beckoning motion. I sucked in some air.

Okay, Pitch was there. How they'd managed to get him to go along with it I had no clue, but it did do something for my nerves, and something eased up in my chest. The spirits might see me, but they wouldn't do anything, they wouldn't look at me too long if Pitch was there with me...not that I wanted to be with Pitch this hole time...did I? No, I could handle myself, I was a big girl. I just had to know he was there. That's all.

I nodded and walked out the door with surprising ease, Tooth fluttering excitedly behind me, the sounds of a party already going strong down below us as I rounded to the overlook...

_~Pitch Black~_

It wasn't as if I hadn't been in a suit before, I had on multiple occasions. But that was in a very distant past, and styles had rather changed lately. The suit was a bit stiff, but I found it slightly easier to move in than I first expected. As per death-threats and warnings, the suit held no reds or golds, merely a black dress shirt, tucked-in tie, and jacket with black dress pants and shoes. How that oaf had managed to get my measurements correctly was both disturbing and curious.

What was most uncomfortable was standing there with them while other spirits shouted and danced below, music ranging from disgusting mortal music that they all enjoyed far too much, to Russian symphonies rather too up-beat for my liking. None of them could see us yet, Nicholas down there hosting and allowing in more spirits than I first thought this place could fit, all packed and making the environment hot and uncomfortable.

I scowled at the thought of actually having to go down there and intermingle with them, skin crawling at the very idea. In all honestly, the only reason I was here at this moment was to entertain myself with how Astrid would react. With luck, she would deck one of them in the face and I would have an entertaining image in my head for the next few centuries.

"Ugh, I hate this!" Frost complained next to me, yet another thing we shared. Then again, had I mentioned our mutual dislike for social settings and tuxedos, Antarctica may have ended faster than it already had. He wore something that no doubt that fairy picked out for him, a white dress shirt with a light blue vest and darker blue pants, the fool toying with the darker blue tie. Sandman flashed a few images that the boy was able to translate, the small man in a yellow vest and pants with a ridiculous yellow top-hat.

I rolled my eyes at both of them, crossing my arms and about to look to the other side when I noticed two people coming out of the hallway ahead of us. One I recognized as Toothiana, who fluttered behind the other giddily. The other...

I could feel my eyes widen and jaw drop, but was too utterly _stunned _to do anything about it. Not like the others could see me, anyway, their eyes all trained onto the girl that was Astrid in every way, but astronomically different. I felt something within me act a bit tensely, my breath stopping without me noticing as I tried to take in what it was that stood before me.

I'd seen Astrid over billions of years, and it wasn't cocky or romantic to say that I knew her face by heart. I'd seen it countless times in every emotion one could possibly imagine...but I'd never seen it quite like this. No, never like this, in fact. In such a way that actually physically affected me from within, something inside of me winding in something I was too arrogant to say was nervousness nor anything else of the sort, denying the warmth that spread across my face.

No, instead I preferred to stick with shock.

She wore a black dress that managed not to contrast too harshly with her pale skin, but at the same time actually gave her a womanly figure. Or, possibly, she'd always had it and I'd just never noticed, not just from lack of interest but also from the over sized clothes she donned herself with. It curved in and out in certain places, the fabric stopping short of black shoes she seemed to walk quiet well in despite a slight heel.

Her hair was delicately curled and framed her face, drawing attention to it like a picture frame. And dear, was that fairy good with minimal makeup. It wasn't just makeup, per say. It was something that highlighted features I never knew she even had, such as slight cheekbones of the young age she'd been frozen in, the actual brilliance of the green in her eyes, and a certain elegance brought to her face...yes, elegance, that was the words the summed it all up. A surprising elegance.

This was Astrid, the one I'd known her entire immortal life...but a highlighted version of her. Almost as if this were a side of her that had been hiding, and now that I could see it, see her as she clearly felt uncomfortable looking, holding one arm and looking at the ground, a real blush under the fake one, see her as this... Some emotion from before stirred up, but this time I found it increasingly difficult to fight down, remaining as a certain heat in my chest as I finally tried to regain myself, seeing her finally look up in a shy way that I'd never seen Astrid give.

I swallowed, hopefully not visibly, and closed my mouth, regaining my composure as I raised an eyebrow at her, seeing something flit across her features before she finally looked down at me for a moment, at the suit she'd never seen me in, and wondered if she were having a similar experience. Possibly just culture shock. Could I dismiss it to that? I could very damn well try...

But I could also fail. Whatever this was, this thought of Astrid looking elegant as an actual woman, a certain beauty she'd impossibly managed to mask before behind a wall and cold personality, it made me almost...almost a bit calm. A bit confident. In the strangest of ways.

"So? Doesn't Astrid just look _adorable?!_" Toothiana exclaimed, and I almost scoffed at that adjective. Adorable was a word for a puppy. This was borderline something I'd rather not attribute to Astrid, but 'beauty' being a word playing on the tip of my tongue, afraid to open my mouth for fear it would fly out.

"U-uh...um, well...wow." Jack stuttered, Astrid raising a cool eyebrow at him, casting a different light on her face that was just as soft and intimidatingly stunning, me wanting to shake myself but at the same time...almost wishing to continue in this way. Continue seeing her like this. It wasn't uncomfortable, odd maybe, but...almost pleasing.

"Astrid's a...girl." Jack said as if surprised, and I snickered as Astrid glared at him, taking a step forward before looking up, North's booming footsteps alerting us all. I never took my eyes off of Astrid, finding it rather difficult to at the moment, as North paused and then said in a surprised, almost teary voice,

"Astrid...es so pretty! Look like little princess!" Astrid reached back and scratched the back of her neck, me seeing her other hand seek out a hoodie pocket that wasn't there, instead settling on pressing itself into the fabric of her dress. Even nervous she looked stunning. Not like a princess at all, in fact. Princesses were soft and shallow. Astrid maintained an elegance that held humility and an edge, still Astrid, just a bit different looking.

"Yeah, that's great. How much longer do I have to stay out here?" She asked nervously, obviously not used to her look, me trying to tear my eyes away before she noticed anything and before I finally snapped back and told myself how ridiculous this was...though the latter was taking longer than I expected.

"Come! I vish to show other spirits my pretty little babushka!" North exclaimed, Astrid's eyes widening and asking quickly,

"Babushka? The hell is a 'babushka'?"

"C'mon North, let's let her ease down on her own!" Tooth said teasingly, fluttering up to Jack and saying something I couldn't catch, Jack nodding and flying off with that irritating wind, Tooth close to his side with Sandman sleepily drifting along behind them.

"I vill watch out for you when you come down! Do enjoy! Es night for peace and celebration, all are in too good spirits to start wishy-washy conflicts!" North boomed, speech already a bit slurred as he turned and walked audibly down the stairs, the sea of noise below doing nothing to muffle it.

And now it was just us. Astrid sighed and placed her hands on her hips in a way she normally did, except his time it seemed a bit more pristine, a bit different.

"I hate this."She muttered, shaking her head, and the words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"Why would that be?" She looked over at me, confused, and then suddenly that little flicker of something illuminated her face once more, and once more she covered it before I could see it. Instead, she replaced it with a sarcastic smirk and said, nodding backwards to the crowd below,

"Just a sea of spirits who want to rip me limb-from-limb. Nothing to be scared of, right?" I quirked up a smile at the challenge and turned, hand lightly touching the railing as I began to descend the steps, looking over my shoulder at her and catching her glance at the suite once more, denying the wash of something that was most definitely not self-consciousness.

"I'm certainly not afraid. Are you, dear?" I challenged, and before she could answer I descended the steps and made sure to avoid any and all eye-contact with any spirit or Guardian (noticing with great relief that Aster hadn't shown up. Give Astrid one night, just a few hours.). Surprisingly, the only glances thrown my way were either surprised or slightly afraid, but nothing truly hostile. Curiously I wondered of word of my not-allegiance to the Guardians had spread, or if what that Russian buffoon had said was accurate.

Was this such a night for celebration that they'd even throw aside the fact that I was here? Certainly not throw aside hostilities, that wasn't their cup of tea...but possibly, for one night, ignore them a bit?...I looked up as I managed to get halfway across the inner perimeter, seeing Astrid looking out from the top of the stairwell, eyes far-off and scanning, wondering the same thing I just had.

And something within me was glad. If anyone deserved a night where the world wasn't against them, it was her. Especially her.

_~Astrid~_

If I pressed myself hard enough against this table, maybe I could disappear into it. I leaned backwards a bit more, the sturdy table able to hold up a yeti and sturdy enough for me, hands gripping a cup of eggnog North had given me before being pulled off by the largest leprechaun I'd ever seen, both now laughing louder than anyone else and looking like old war buddies, clapping each other on the back and grinning as faeries of different colors and women who appeared to be elemental sat on a couch near a fire and listened, completely enraptured.

I took the time of utter panic, wishing no one would walk up to me and engage in conversation where I may just flee and hide for the rest of time, to look around at the job the yetis had done of decorating. To be honest, it was absolutely stunning. Golden tinsel hung from rafters and looped elegantly in lines and bows all along the wall, lights so small that they looked like floating orbs casting whites and reds and greens out onto the crowd as the light outside grew darker, everything taking on a beautiful, calming tone as peppermint and gin wafted through the air. They'd even managed to set up a Christmas tree that almost poked out of the hole in the ceiling, magnificently decorated in glittering, shining, pulsating lights and ornaments that slid to and fro as if alive, listening to the odd mix of music that seemed to place everyone in a slight stupor.

So far, to my utter shock, no one had given me so much as a surprised look. Granted, I was staying as far away from them all as possible, the crowd damn-near impenetrable with people standing a maximum foot away from the other and looking like a land mine to me, but still. It was shocking. I'd expected accusations, a shouted insult or four, suspicious looks, narrowed eyes, whispers. I'd expected at least a _reason _to leave, and not just blame it on my awkwardness and severe social anxiety.

But no. They weren't exactly welcoming me in with open arms...but they weren't hating me either. I would turn one way and see a few of them looking away quickly, but without anger on their faces. Surprise, almost, before they managed to hide themselves. And as I caught a few more every minute quickly breaking eyecontact, looking like they'd been caught doing something embarrassing, I became more and more conscious of my surroundings.

Beautiful women danced, all different skin tones and species, powers and elements, ranks and personalities. I'd run into many of them, but never before had I seen them all looking so content, so at ease, so happy. Almost as if the spirit of North's workshop didn't affect just me. Almost as if it truly were some sort of aphrodisiac, a calming and soothing fragrance that set nerves at ease and brought all of these people together, to the point where they didn't even panic with my being here.

Men, women, and even a few children spirits all danced, some with elegance, some with humor, some with mischief. They all looked so at ease...and I felt so out of place. Here they all were, basically acknowledging my existence, but choosing to be benign about it. Choosing to accept it and move on.

So why was I the one focusing on it to the point where I was about to break the cup in my hands, finally relenting and setting it down, turning and placing it on the table.

"You look like someone I know." I jumped and cursed loudly, looking forward as the owner of the voice leaned nonchalantly on the table, one hand splayed out and the other running through golden locks as if he hadn't just given me fifty-seven different heart attacks. My heart pounded hard as I shook myself, gulping and looking at the man incredulously, hand over my collarbone as I tried to steady my own pulse.

The man just gave me a lazy, prince-charming, pearly-white smile that looked almost as if his face were built for it, golden-touched skin and eyes that sparkled pale brown in the light. I looked him up and down, wondering if this guy was entirely serious. He had his golden hair slicked easily back, reaching his shoulders in waves, shirtless spare a velvet red vest that was unbuttoned and darker red pants, an emblem of a bow and arrow sewn onto the breast pocket of the vest. He was cut, I'd give him that, but almost cliche'd so. Like the stereotypical romance-novel model, and just the scent of his cologne and his very appearance made me want to gag.

I had a feeling I knew who this guy was, and my heart sank, a frown pulling onto my face. Great. Just great. The first spirit to speak to me, and it was this asshat.

"I think you have the wrong person." I said quickly, and turned to try and go further down, but he jumped easily over the table stacked high with food and landed right in front of me, giving me a too-close facefull of man-chest, making me take two quick steps back, and not just because I was afraid for his well being. Honestly, his greatest tragedy was probably a bad hair day.

"Oh no, I'm definitely right. I've seen you alright, in my dreams." He said in a low and suave voice, one eyebrow raised as he narrowed his eyes a bit, smile turning into something coy, as if he thought he was so damn smart, holding a hand out to me, which I blatantly ignored and just gave him an incredulous and slightly disturbed look. This guy was pushing his own image waay too far.

"Cupid Redletter, the Spirit of Love and Romance." He continued, despite his hand still being held out. If anything, he moved it closer, and I felt my skin crawl. "And your name, my vision of loveliness?" Oh you've got to be shitting me. Was he out of his damn mind? Did he, in all honesty, just call me his 'vision of loveliness'? I was about to choke on the cheesiness.

"Um, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. And you're definitely strange. As in, beyond strange. So I'll just be going now, if you don't mind." I said, carefully side-stepping around him and trying to make a hasty retreat, only to have the walking embodiment of the word 'tool' cut into my way again, me stepping back half an inch and looking up at him with a glare, my patience wearing thin. Maybe it was my short temper, or maybe it was him...no, it was definitely him. This was a mistake to come down here. A big mistake.

I saw other spirits begin to turn and glance our way, feeling eyes on me, a feeling I was unused to and that made me want to slink away somewhere, made me want to disappear, hide, burrow into bed covers and forget it all, forget the skin-crawling feeling of all those eyes looking at me when before they were ignoring me, eyes that I felt boring into my skin, ripping me apart, judging eyes. And when I was judged, it was never with anything good.

The noise was loud as ever, along with the thrumming of fear in my ears, pulsing blood in my head, the inner judgements of those around me, all looking at me as they moved en masse to the music, everything morphing together into one giant haze of music and people and dancing and crowds and eyes and decorations and everything much, much bigger than me. And even though it was just Cupid being a jerk like he was known for, even though it was just one spirit bothering me, it triggered a chain reaction, and I did what I did best. I over reacted, like I did with every damn thing.

Claustrophobia set in and I took in a shaky breath, trying to hold it all in and control it, seeing Cupid give me another one of his smirks and say something, but it was muffled and distorted, seeing his hand reach out towards me as he winked, everything almost blurring, my heart pounding, and I had to _get out-_

"I believe the young lady said 'no'."

I snapped almost instantly back into the situation, the fear still buzzing and anxiety on high, but everything falling back into a normal kind of vision. Nothing was blurred, and the feeling of being crushed was ebbing away, giving me time to take in what had happened.

A hand had stopped Cupid's, and was holding the large man's wrist tightly, as if he were a ragdoll though the hand that stopped his was much smaller and thinner. I looked up and saw beyond Cupid's shocked and slightly confrontational face and into the face of Pitch, who looked pulled together like always, but there was a strange sense of...anger, almost, in his stare. Eyes narrowed and burning Cupid's silently in a glare that I'd seen only a few times before, and each time the recipient was too far away to gauge a reaction.

Now, though, I realized how intimidating it must be to others. Though Pitch was a bit shorter and much leaner, the look in Cupid's eyes managed to wash away any and all of the confidence it had once held, and now all that was left was a cowardly fear, a nervous look bordering fear, mouth half-open as if to apologize, eyes flickering quickly from Pitch's and over to me for a short while, me still trying to gain my bearings back.

"I suggest, on your own behalf, that you honor her request and get the hell out of here before I show you what _I _love to do. And trust me, it's not hearts and roses." Pitch said in a calm, venomously smooth tone that dripped with malice and promise, a tone and words that, once Pitch had released Cupid's wrist from his grasp, send the Spirit of Love stumbling backwards into the table of snacks, bumping into a tiny forest sprite and making her squeak angrily. The large man barely had the mind to apologize as he gave Pitch a look of pure terror, trembling and holding a hand up in surrender, turning and half-sprinting out of sight.

"...I'd hug you if I wasn't having a panic attack right now." I deadpanned, breathing coming easier now that Mr. Romance was gone and Pitch was here, a repellent to pretty much every spirit no matter what kind of truce trance North had them all under. I shook my head and looked down at my feet, still feeling their eyes on me, digging into me. And I wanted to shake it, shake _them_, even though they hadn't done anything to me yet. They were going to. They had to. They always did.

That was how it went, the natural balance of things. If they threw that off, then...then I didn't know what to do anymore...no, actually, that's wrong. I did know what to do. I would join the Guardians, end up becoming scarily close to something of a friend to all of them, trap some hideous creature in a ball of ice and nightmare sand, drag Pitch into all of it, develop conflicting feelings that I couldn't sort through, and then go to a party filled with spirits who hate me in a dress that I wasn't used to wearing makeup that made me look like me but not me.

I groaned and rubbed my temples. I needed to leave. Or to not let people pressure me into these situations. Or a few less social disorders. Or an Asprin. One of any would be fine.

I heard Pitch chuckle and I looked up, shooting him a death-glare, wondering what he found so funny about this when I saw...a different look on his face. It wasn't his normal sarcastic, teasting, shit-eating smirk he always had on when he found my absolute awkwardness entertaining, or when he watched me writh in social agony until he felt it was too uncomfortable for me. It wasn't mocking or even a little guarded. In fact, it seemed a bit...unguarded.

And I was used to that around Pitch, both of us being unguarded. There was nothing to protect ourselves against around the other. But all the same, it felt...odd. Exposing. Raw. Because it was something unguarded that I'd never seen before. A look I didn't even think he was capable of. And it took me a second to look at him and realize what it was I saw, and another second to tell myself I wasn't seeing things. And I shook myself inwardly, because I _had _to be seeing things, because this was Pitch...

And his face was soft, like when he was sleeping, with only a few creases on his forehead. His smile was slight and lopsided, a little hint of a smirk that others may not notice, but I did. And it stopped my heart, and something new took its place. That same old weird emotion that I was seriously considering may be an allergy at this point. Yes, that's it. I was allergic. To Pitch. I could believe it...

...Kind of...no, not really. Not at all actually, because I knew allergic reactions were supposed to feel bad. The throat swelling, the heart-pounding, the prickle up my spine...it didn't feel exactly bad. I narrowed my eyes and asked, voice coming out a bit too shy for my taste,

"What's with the look, Pitchy?" He raised an eyebrow lightly at the nickname and rolled his eyes, but there was something different in them. Something suave, something playful and mischevious, but lighter than it normally would be. And there, if I looked close enough, was a bit of curiosity. He was testing something. Testing what?

"Nothing, dear. Just enjoying your trivial little fears." He mocked, which was much more like him, and making me punch him lightly in the chest. He didn't even take a step back, just kind of stood there and smirked, shaking his head as the music above us changed, about to say something when he stopped to listen. I paused, too, but not to listen to the music. To notice the change in the atmosphere, an atmosphere I was hyper-sensitive to at the moment.

The music became slower and smoother, a string of violins softly starting in the background, playing out a soft rhythm with a hint of melancholy as another Russian instrument chimed in, one I couldn't name, but had the attributes of a Chelo and the grace of a piano all at once, the music filling the air and the lights almost dimming in response, the crowd quieting a bit as the music over took it, moving slower, pulsing gradually as I saw men and women pair with others, smiling and clasping hands and waists, swaying, almost hypnotizing.

I almost laughed when I saw Tooth and Jack giving each other heavy blushes and small glances before Jack offered his hand, Tooth giggling nervously before taking it. Even North found someone, a massively tall woman who was almost taller than him, muscular but very feminine, both dancing very slowly and drunkenly. I couldn't spot Sandy anywhere amongst the mass of suddenly very calm and doe-eyed group. As odd as it was, it was worlds better than what I had been before with the pounding music and eyes.

I smirked and shook my head, relishing the feeling of relaxation that washed over me, still a bit of fear and anxiety but that was so constant I hardly paid any attention to it. And yeah, as the atmosphere let up a bit, darkened, I took in a deep breath. One of surprise...but for once, not a bad surprise. Not an uncomfortable surprise. Just a surprising surprise. Because it felt like home.

I turned back to Pitch to say something, but forgot what it was when he greeted me with the smile again. He hadn't looked away from me, he'd been watching me, and as out-of-character as it was, I was more self-conscious than anything. Why I didn't know. This was Pitch, after all, but something felt different about him tonight...something felt different in our invisible little bond...

"...C'mon, _what_?" I demanded quietly, whispering for fear of being over heard in the softer music and murmuring. Pitch looked at me, eyes narrowing in a bit of analyzing, that smile still on his lips as he looked more-than-regal in his all-black suit, the suit that seemed to fit him just right, that made him look just as suave as he did in his cloak of shadows. And then I realized what was different...or part of it, at least. Both Pitch and I were still Pitch Black and Astrid, but we were...almost different sides of ourselves.

And suddenly Pitch's hand was outstretched towards me, and I looked from it to him with surprise, mouth open and not knowing what to say or what the hell he was doing. But Pitch, like always, seemed very confident in his movements, raising one eyebrow with that little smirk still on his face,

"Would you like to stand here and fidget or dance?" I blinked four times and tried to tell myself that I had heard him wrong, but even as I tried his hand was still there and his face was still confident. Dance. _Dance?_ With _Pitch?_ What the hell had gotten into him tonight that he thought dancing was something of a normal occurrence for us? We didn't like each other! Hell, sometimes we could barely stand each other...

"Pitch, are you feeling okay tonight? You're acting a little...strange." I asked cautiously, and tried to dispel away why I actually felt and odd tug to take Pitch's hand, eyes lingering on it longer and longer with each glance. Something flickered across Pitch's eyes, silver and yellow blinking for a moment as he quirked up a shoulder and asked,

"Is that a yes to a dance?" I just looked at him incredulously and paused. No, something was definitly different with him. I mean, something had seemed a bit off about him lately, but this...

I gave a start as I felt my hand in his, looking down and not realizing I'd placed it there until his long fingers wrapped around mine softly, in a familiar gesture that set me at ease almost instantly, but that prickling of knowing that I needed to be curious, I needed to be wondering what this whole situation meant still sticking annoyingly into my gut. I couldn't just go along with this! I had to over react! That was my thing!

...But the music was so damn calming. It danced through the air as Pitch turned me and led me towards the staircase, my heart beating faster than normal but muscles relaxed, nerves smoothed down if not a bit alert. And maybe this was some form of magic North had. Maybe it was the music. Or maybe it was stress. But something in the air made this feel...almost right. Like this was supposed to happen or something...

"Why are we going up the stairs?" I asked, Pitch never releasing my hand as we made our was up to the Overlook. He looked over his shoulder as me as we walked to the center, looking amused.

"I'd rather not be associated with that herd of imbeciles and drunk Russians. Besides, you were afraid of all of them looking at you, and as amusing as that was, I felt that this would be easier in a more comfortable setting. That and I know you've never danced before, and wanted to save you that humiliation of being compared to me."

"You are the captain of asshats, you know that?"

He did this stupid little mini-bow and then moved forward, me tensing just a bit in surprise as one of his hands slipped around my waist, pressing a bit as the other lifted my right hand and held it in his palm, giving me a smile again as I felt something nervous and creeping rise up in my chest, which I found ridiculous. This was just dancing with Pitch. It was no big deal. Hell, the guy had seen me have a complete mental-breakdown this morning! He'd seen me at my absolute worst and held me in a way that made me feel safer than anyone else ever could make me feel...

So why did this feel so much closer? Intimate, almost, if you could attribute that to anything Pitch and I did. Maybe it was because I was now acutely aware of everything, not in some break-down, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder state. Maybe it was because I was awake and alert and could actually pay attention to the little things about this.

Like how easy it seemed to be for him, his hand lightly on my waist and yet feeling the familiar press of warmth, his other hand holding mine with a practiced grace and stature, standing straight and refined in a way that made me feel like I was slouching or doing something blatantly wrong, when we hadn't even started to dance yet. And all at once, seeing him and his ease and confidence, I felt horribly self-conscious. Something I'd never felt around Pitch, which made it different from any other time I'd ever felt it. Because Pitch was different, and I didn't know what to do as a result. Didn't know what was so different about this moment in comparison to all the others.

But whatever it was, he seemed to have a perfect grasp on it, a certain confidence as he nudged my free arm with his elbow, saying teasingly,

"You put that hand on my arm, or do you not remember the ballroom-dance era?" I rolled my eyes, reaching my hand up and resting my elbow on the inner crook of the arm that had a hand placed against my waist, lightly grabbing his upper-arm and muttering,

"Oh yeah, great. Petticoats and corsets. I almost forgot how much I hated it all." I referred to the tight strings laced across the back of the dress, not that it was uncomfortable, it just felt restraining compared to my usual clothing. I wasn't used to a top that held me in place in stead of allowing me to move freely, or bottoms that didn't allow me to fly or jump, or shoes that I couldn't run in.

I heard Pitch's quiet chuckle and I looked up at him with a mild glare, seeing nothing more than his usual smirk, a bit more like him and slightly relaxing, familiar and comfortable.

"Do you remember when I attempted to teach you to dance?" He asked with a hint of laughter in his voice, laughter that I let out freely and surprisingly. I shook my head at the memory, remembering a lot of yelling, cursing, foot-stepping, and eventually just glaring at each other from different corners of the room.

"Oh yeah, I remember. My feet never recovered." I retorted, and he scoffed, looking at me incredulously.

"_Your _feet? How about mine? I swear, I thought you were doing it on purpose."

"That's because I was."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too."

"At least you're doing much better this time."

I gave a small start at his words and looked down, eyes wide as I realized exactly what it was that he'd meant. At some point, a point when I wasn't paying attention, we'd begun to dance. I hadn't even noticed it, everything just flowing and ebbing so seamlessly that I felt like I was still standing, or just walking, or moving fluidly through completely normal movements. Maybe it was because I'd been caught up in Pitch's strange behavior, or my own strange acceptance of it, or maybe it truly was the atmosphere, but whatever it was had made this whole thing almost...

...Feel so incredibly _right._ Nothing was forced, just stepping up. Side. Back. Side. Up. Side. Back. Side. Smooth, fluid movements in which I didn't even have to remember which foot to step with or it I were keeping my hand up high enough, didn't have to be afraid of stepping on his foot because..well... It felt like we were one moving thing. I could feel where his foot was and I never touched it, almost as if our bodies just...knew. Knew something we didn't. Moved in ways we didn't know we could.

And I knew it was both of us, because Pitch wasn't looking focused or serious like he had before, the first time we'd tried this. He wasn't looking irritated or at the ceiling in frustration...he wasn't looking anywhere. Anywhere but me. And that was when I realized why this was so easy, why it was so odd. Because, for the first time, he wasn't _teaching _me anything. I wasn't learning. We just...were. As if it were our natural state. As if this was supposed to happen all along.

And I realized that I didn't have to question anything. I looked up at him with confusion and realization, with an odd self-consciousness, with a nagging voice in the back of my head that told me this was beyond odd, and he looked at me with an easy smile and playful, very Pitch-like eyes that were softer than normal, and the music played another slow melody around us. I didn't have to question any of this.

I just had to fall into step.

_~Below the Overlook~_

"Oh...my...gosh." Tooth said suddenly, looking up at the Overlook, her hand very conciously in Jack's as the blushing Winter spirit led her over to a rather red-faced North and sleepy Sandy. He gave her a confused look as they reached the others, North giving them a nod and a hiccup as the slow, beautiful music began to play a different tune, calming the large man.

"What's up, Tooth?" Jack asked, despite his nerves. Her eyes were wide and caught between surrpise and glee, her free hand over her mouth as she fluttered a bit into the air, bouncing a bit as Sandy gave Jack a question mark, Jack shrugging. North was the only one out of the group to have enough sense, ironically enough, to follow Tooth's line of sight. And when he did, he sobered almost instantly.

"Choknutyj!" North exclaimed, eyes widening in shock as the others finally looked up to where the other two were looking. At first, it took them a second, only seeing two figures on top of the darkened Overlook, the light up there not quite reaching and only casting a pale haze. But, as the couple got a bit closer and the Guardians' eyes adjusted, they saw exactly what had North and Tooth so...stunned.

"...Is that...?"Jack asked, narrowing his eyes to try and see, confused past the point of confusion. Sandy made an exclamation point, followed by an image of Pitch and Astrid dancing, and then a question mark and an exclamation point. Tooth, who had looked away only to read Sandy's messege, just nodded and exclaimed quietly so no other heard,

"That's Pitch and Astrid! Oh, oh stop looking! Don't draw attention to them!" She fussed, waving her free hand at the boys, who looked at her in surprise and curiosity. North stole another look before raising his eyebrows, shaking his head. He'd been alive for a long, long time. But this? He'd never thought he'd live long enough to see it, or get drunk enough.

"But wait, what's that mean? I mean they're...no, not friends exactly..." Jack tried, but Tooth ruffled her feathers in excitement and said in a hushed voice, smile so wide it almost hurt,

"They clearly want to be alone, so let's let them...oh! It's just so...so..."She tried, stealing another glance up. They were certainly dancing, but it looked different from how the others around them were. Others were either pressed close, kissing, or dancing out-of-rhythm or with mechanical movements. But those two looked like they'd been dancing together since the dawn of time, movements natural and easy, and they weren't even looking down.

No, they were certainly not looking down, Tooth could tell that even from where she stood. They were looking no where but at the other, and though she'd sensed a little bit of something between those two before, now it was a full-on assumption. They were too far away to see the real expressions, the two also shrouded in a darkness that both seemed to be far more comfortable in.

"Creepy?" Jack tried, but Tooth just sighed and shook her head, Sandy shaking his head in disbelief and floating away to go sleep somewhere slightly less-stuffy, North giving a knowing smile and leaning back on the fireplace, crossing his arms, a bit of a twinkle in his eyes.

"Endearing." She sighed, earning herself a confused look from Jack, which she mainly ignored. The two above them continued to dance, and she managed to convince the boys not to look up there, saying the two were at least a_t _the party and didn't need any reason to leave, feeling a small sense of pride in her chest for what she'd done to Astrid.

But it wasn't just makeup and a dress, she felt, that made this moment happen. And she would have thought about it more had Jack not offered her that beautiful little dopey smile and taken her attention again, towards the winter sprite and away from the dancing two.

_~Astrid~_

"Astrid." Pitch said softly, and I blinked a few times, trying my damned hardest not to blush in embarrassment, seeing as how just seconds before I'd been tracing the different bursts of silver and gold in his eyes.

"Yeah?" I asked, voice trying to be quiet and coming out a bit too loud and soft at the same time. I saw his smile quirk up a bit as he asked in an airy tone, his movements never faltering, nor mine.

"Before, you were afraid of something, but I could not make it out. It was rather more uncomfortableness. Mind sharing?" He asked playfully, and I instantly shrugged and looked down at his chest, something coiling in my stomach though greatly lessened by the completely relaxed and belonging feeling that filled me. I paused a moment before muttering, glad for the darkness surrounding us,

"...Everyone was..._looking _at me." I heard Pitch pause a moment, and then felt him lean in a bit closer to me, breath on my forehead and sending a wave of heat and a tingling sensation across my forehead and down my neck.

"Dear, that is because you are beautiful."

I looked up at the same moment that, just like beginning to dance, I realized we had stilled, somewhere farther into the darkness, the others somewhere far away, in another world apart from us. Pitch had moved his hand from my waist to the small of my back, his other hand still clasping mine. And our faces were closer than I could ever remember them being, his forehead closest to mine and his eyes almost brighter up-close like this, a penetrating stare.

I wanted to cringe. To run. To flee, or hide, or something... But more than that, I wanted to stay. And I didn't know why, didn't want to know why. I wanted to stay here, and I wanted to see what happened next. I wanted to know what this all meant. What he thought it meant. What I thought it meant. If either of us even knew, anyway.

Neither of us said anything. Neither of us even moved. It was as if we wanted nothing more from this moment than _this_, right here. Standing this close, looking at each other, and knowing it was crazy, knowing we'd deny this later, but not caring _now_. Now was fine. Now was beautiful. Now was terrifying. Now was easy. Now should have lasted forever.

But it only lasted a few seconds.

After that, it was all a blur.

Pitch looked about to do something, but what it was I wouldn't know, because in one perfectly, terribly timed second, I smelt it. But it wasn't normal, it wasn't how it had been any time before. Before, I could breathe it in and know how many and how strong. Now, I couldn't breathe.

"Astrid!" Pitch exclaim as a shattering of glass ricocheted off the walls and echoed in the screams of those below us, a world of noise falling on top of me as I stumbled back and clutched at my chest and lungs, wheezing and coughing, gagging, eyes watering and only completely aware of suffocating and the noises all around me.

Screaming. Shouting. A massive, rushing sound, like the ocean or blood rushing into my ears. Pitch. A ripping, high-pitched shriek that was amplified from last time, hands moving to clasp over my ears as I tried and failed to suck in air without the putrid, stuffing smell of polluted tragedy in the air, something wet below my ears. They were bleeding. Fucking great.

It hurt, _bad_, as the pollution filled me up and expanded and then...then...

Then I realized what the tragedy was polluted with.

Fear.

I exploded inside of me like a bomb, and I called out, falling to my knees an both hyperventilating and suffocating at the same time, cringing as the entire world around me began to fall apart, people still screaming and everything too loud, too close, the irrational fear vibrating and soaking my veins, making me want to scream but I didn't have enough air in my lungs for that, so it all just came out as a broken heave of breath. I was filled too much, everything inside of me clattering and clamoring to escape, to get out, to rip from me before I split right open. I could feel it in my veins, in my muscles, in my chest and gut, from my head to my toes.

"Astrid!" I heard Pitch shout, sounding broken and in pain. I couldn't piece together why, or what was happening, or anything other than I needed to get him away, and fast.

"Pitch!" I screamed, sucking in another severely forced breath before screaming as loud as I could manage, "_Run!_"

I didn't know if he listened or not, just hearing a quick curse and shuffling, holding back as long as I could before, just as the shrieking and glass and shouting and rushing of blood got too much, got to a point where I was about to shatter from the shear intensity and pain of it all, I let it all go. I convulsed forward until my forehead slammed against the floor in blinding pain, screaming silently and breathlessly, lungs heaving without air, black dots exploding into my vision as the sound of fluttering wings, billions of them, and the floom of smoke added to the noise of the chaos, and for a second I was afraid I was too late, that I was going to shatter after all...

And then there was silence.

Pure silence. Just nothing. I felt myself take in a loud breath of air and release it, could feel that happen a few times, but couldn't hear it. Everything was just silence and, as I felt a tremor run through my body, one last push of fear, darkness.

Silent darkness.


	12. Under the Daisy Trees

_-Thank you all for your wonderful comments. For this story I've decided not to do a sequel but make this a slightly longer story than usual. May get to be the length of 'Spark' or just a tad bit longer. Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

_ "You promise you'll never forget about me?"_

_"I promise."_

There was a sharp aching in my head, ripping me from unconsciousness and demanding attention, bringing me back to the surface of my own mine and making me groan. It shot behind my skull and down my jaw, part of it throbbing behind my forehead as I squeezed my eyes shut to try and block it out, failing as dim light filtered through my eyelids. I questioned the light until I remembered, all of the images playing in a summary behind my eyes until the very end, the silence, the darkness.

"Ah, you're awake. Wonderful, it was getting too peaceful here for my taste." The voice only triggered the pain in my skull to intensify, and I groaned again in response, reaching up and pressing both my palms to my forehead, then my temples, doing only a bit to alleviate the pain. When he spoke next, his voice was considerably softer and no less sarcastic.

"Ah yes, it's called a 'migrane'. You know. Those things you give me."

"Pitch fucking Black I swear if you don't stop talking I'm going to strangle you with...something." I muttered at the end, head throbbing too much to think clearly.

"Oh, no, not that. Please. I'm absolutely trembling in fear. You hear that? It's the sound of chattering teeth. You truly know how to threaten people."

I would have shot something back at him, but suddenly I felt something rise up from my chest, into my throat, and I barely had enough time to shove myself into a sitting position before an irony taste filled my mouth, hot and searing, before coughing violently forward. I convulsed as I did, trembling and palms still pressed to my temples as my body expelled something that wasn't vomit, more searingly hot and irony than that, taking strangled breaths as the fit continued.

I felt a familiar hand on my back, and my mind instantly focused in on the points of contact where fingertips trailed down my spine, all the way from my neckbone to the small of my back, then back up. Softly and reassuringly, and I allowed myself to focus on that shiver of calm as the fit of coughing slowly ebbed away, the last of it coming as tiny little convulsions of my chest and a bit of air from my lungs, but nothing more came from my throat or mouth.

When it finally passed, I paused, gaining my bearings back and taking in deep breaths, letting them out slowly as the fingertips continued to trace up and down my back.

"Are you okay?" Pitch asked in a surprisingly concerned voice, which for him was still a bit serious and tired. But I could tell. And I paused a moment before nodding and opening my eyes, his palm pressing firmly to my back as I tensed, seeing what I'd coughed up that now lay in a spattered pool below me in my lap, contrasting with the white sheets of the hospital bed I'd laid in.

Blood.

"Wh-what the bloody hell?" I asked, voice still a bit uneasy.

"I enjoyed the irony in that statement." Pitch mused calmly, softly. I slowly slipped my hands from my head as the pounding eased up a bit, still there but manageable. I couldn't look away from the blood below me, a deep, dark red with spatters of black in it, black I knew couldn't be natural, having seen enough of it in my time.

As if sensing my question, Pitch spoke, never removing his hand from my back.

"You breathed in too much of that polluted tragedy. You body's just trying to expel some of it." I looked down at the blood with horror and fascination, panting and trying to get fresh air into my lungs, feeling an odd light sensation in my chest, as if the pollution had actually weighed me down with a layer of scum and musk. And even though it was there in front of me in my own blood, I still felt some of it everytime I took a breath in, everytime I coughed afterwards. It was more tolerable, but still in there. And my head still hurt.

"I'm seriously starting to hate those things."I muttered angrily, and Pitch made an amused 'hm' in response, hand still anchoring on my back.

"...What happened? At the party. I kind of blanked out after I released all of that smoke." I asked, trying to get my mind of the repulsion of having something that thick and polluting in my lungs, realizing I was still in the dress Tooth had put me in, sitting in a hospital bed. I looked over before Pitch could answer, wincing a bit at the pain the sudden movement caused, seeing a similar hospital bed pulled close to mine and ruffled.

I seemed to be in some sort of hospital-wing portion of the workshop, the walls decorated the same but with lines of identical beds against the walls and different doors labeled in Elvish and Russian, the smell of stale bleach and chemicals evident in the air. When I looked back at Pitch, I saw he still wore the suit from the party, a calm and collected face with darkened eyes, something akin to concern in his eyes.

"Those creatures shattered the windows the second you and I sensed them coming near. Gave a lot of those spirits quite a fright, which would have been quite fine had their fear not been added to yours, which along with the fear that radiated from the creatures gave me quite the migraine." I paused as he said this, asking as I tucked some hair behind my ear,

"Wait, why aren't you acting this way then? Why aren't you...ya know..." I tried, motioning to the stains of blood that soaked through the sheets, me grimacing in disgust once I realized this and taking them, tossing the sheets to the end of the bed.

"Hm, you really don't remember a lot, do you?" Pitch asked, and I gave him a 'No, _really_?' look of sarcasm. He shrugged and explained, eyes straying down to the bloodied sheets away from me, something flickering in his expression,

"You breathed in the pollution of the creatures, I just heard an odd noise coming from them. This is why you managed to sense them before me, and why they affected you infinitely worse. They got closer to you, as well, almost as if they were targeting you." As he said this, something in my gut coiled, and I tensed a bit, his hand almost absent-mindedly stroking down my spine and up again, resting and continuing, "I got away just in time for you to expell the tragedy accumulating in your body through fear and reaction to the creatures, which both weakened you and saved you from suffocating at the same time.

"Yes, my migraine was hell, but nothing worse than what you put me through. In fact, I've been up for hours. Your entire body was affected, which is why I suggest you get a bit more rest before those buffoons come barging in here and-"

SLAM.

I cringed and doubled over, moaning and pressing my hands to my head as pinpricks of pain turned into screeching explosions behind my eyes, Pitch's hand tensing on my back as North exclaimed something, sounding like pure noise to me.

"Keep your voice down, you idiot! Are you daft?!" Pitch whispered angrily, a harsh tone I rarely ever heard him use, sounding gruff and protective. My head was pounding too hard to think, just focusing on myself as their whispers flew through the air, burrowing within my own mind and trying to ease the pain, focusing on anything that wasn't loud or painful.

The soft fluttering of wings. Comfortable bed below me. Cool air. Warm hand on my back, reassuringly still there though others were in the room. The heat that radiated into my spine, the shiver of relaxation that pulsated from the long fingers in waves, the familiarity of it all, the voice next to me, the darkness. I breathed in and out, the pain slowly falling away from me, turning into a tolerable pounding in the back of my mind.

Slowly, in a waiting silence, I opened my eyes and eased myself into looking up, only to be greeted with the worried and sympathetic faces of the Guardians. They all looked like they were looking at a kicked puppy, Tooth and North the worst with Jack at least offering a smile and Sandy waving at me...and then Bunny. Shit. I'd almost forgot about him, almost, in everything that had happened. I wondered if the commotion had roused his attention, having not seen him at the dance.

But his face wasn't hostile, like I'd imagined it would be. Instead, it was worse. Worried, concerned, frowning and brows furrowed as his eyes flickered from me to the blood on the sheets, something heavy behind his gaze. I quickly looked away from him, away from all of them, to my own lap. Eyes. I remembered eyes from last night, the suffocating feeling. And then I remembered suffocation.

Pitch's hand on my back tensed, so I must have been afraid of something, but I quickly shook myself inwardly and looked up again, trying to avoid the sympathy in their gazes as I said, voice a bit hoarse,

"So, how'd the party go?" North looked like he was about to burst out laughing, but caught some look from Pitch and quickly coughed, collecting himself and smiling at me in that fatherly, adorable way.

"Thanks to you, not so bad. All creepy-crawlies that survived quickly left, run like little scared school girls!" I winced a bit as his voice rose, and he instantly held up his hands, eyes wide and whispering, "Sorry!" I raised a hand up to him and shook my head slowly, saying in a soft voice myself, one hand still pressed to my temple and easing most of the pain,

"It's fine, I just need a second. Those things aren't right, I can..."I paused, trying to find the words and failing. But, surprisingly enough, North nodded in understanding.

"We know..."He glanced at Pitch and paused, a look of indecision in his face. I furrowed my own brows and looked from him to Pitch, who sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, suddenly looking much...almost older than before, as if I'd missed something big. Bigger than what had just happened.

"We might as well tell them, no use in speculating now." Pitch sighed tiredly. I narrowed my eyes and asked, feeling too out-of-the-loop for my own good,

"Speculate about what? The hell did I miss, huh?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Jack agreed, all eyes moving between the two spirits, who both shifted and glanced at each other in a silent conversation that, coupled with my migraine and the uncomfortable weight in my lungs, made a spiral of irritation and anger begin to coil in my gut. I grit my teeth, wishing I'd have gone to bed when Pitch told me to, not have to deal with this now, this silent conversation and these pitying looks and this freaking _pain _in my head.

"Pitch and I have discussed what I have found from creature in workroom over past few days, and have come to conclusion that es...not exactly comforting thing." North explained as I glared at the bed below me, jaw tight enough for me to be surprised Tooth wasn't calling me out on it.

"Well, get on with it! What'd ya find, ya gumby?" Bunny demanded, and I heard North sigh, another pause that I almost didn't get through. My nerves were absolutely frayed, 100% done with it all as the migrane ripped and pulled at my skull, the stress of everything slamming down upon me. I tried deep calm breaths, tried to tell myself that I seriously needed to hear this. I didn't have to respond, I just had to hear it. That was it. Just listen. I could do that.

"The creature is a hybrid."

I hadn't noticed the hand on my back tensing as I did, didn't even realized I w_as _tensing until Pitch's words, spoken with harsh suddenness, brought be back into a reality where I could actually focus. Focus on the the sudden silence of the room, Pitch's fingers firmly pressing into my back in an urgent, notifying kind of way, of the tone of Pitch's voice. He knew. He knew I couldn't take much more, he always knew, and he was getting as much out as possible before I had to leave, before I couldn't take anymore.

He continued explaining, not allowing time for questions or comments, disregarding the reactions of the others, his voice towards me and me only though he faced out towards the others. He wanted me to know, the tone of his voice urgent, and I did my best to listen. But we both knew I could only take so much right now.

"North and I had previously discussed _why _it was that Astrid could smell the creatures coming, and why they gave off an odd sort of resonance of fear whenever I neared any of them. I thought they were feeding into our specialties: Fear and Tragedy. As if they were drawn towards us, being sent onto us. Nicholas recently informed me of how wrong I truly was.

"You see, over the course of these past many hours, samples of a 'fallout' like substance has been collected from that creature through the contraption that somehow managed to work. Upon my own examination of it, I thought it nothing more than just a simple unknown substance. It looked like nothing I'd ever seen before, a flake-like clump of greyish dandruff.

"...But there was something no quite right about it, and I found myself with many theories that didn't seem to have any substance to them. These creatures seemed too well-organized to be an individual effort, having found us all of three times in quite crafty ways. There had to be someone behind it, or whatever substance they were made out of had to have a human-like intelligence, minimum.

"Therefore, after I woke up and the rest of you were fretting over Astrid and the guests that you thought you had to tend to before they left, Nicholas and I surveyed the entire scene. At first, there was just more residue, giving off different hitches of the same noise I detect in the same way Astrid detects their scent. It wasn't until I actually _touched _this residue that I made my first discovery.

"You see, when I feel fear I can distinguish it from any other emotion. I do not feel it with a mix of anything, nor it is mottled, ever. Not even when I've been lucky enough to be at the brunt of Astrid's temper-tantrums. Fear and Tragedy are two completely opposite forces moving streamline to each other, and so you can imagine my surprise when I touched this substance and felt a sudden burst of both, like popping a balloon. But they were not separated. They were, instead, fused together like metals or mere colors.

"The creatures were hybrids of nightmare sand that was hardened and morphed by Astrid's smoke. How they came to be that way is beyond me, for they've managed to collide before without any side effects. But what is more important is what that means. They could not have done that on their own. Someone out there was not just collecting smoke and nightmare sand, but also creating creatures that could detect the very substance they were made of.

"This person is almost directly targeting Astrid and me. For what purposes, I have no idea."

"But...then if someone's doing this...-"

"Then comes what we discovered next." Pitch continued on, rolling right over Jack's words. I heard some shuffling from North, heard the sound of skin on paper, and then something was thrown on the end of the bed for everyone to see. I managed to look up, absorbing all the words, arms wrapped around my ribs out of instinct, trying to function and breathe and not run out, really trying hard. I had to stay. Had to see at least this. At least this, then I could go and take a breather.

What North had thrown was a playing card. Sitting black on the white sheets, just a thin rectangle of paper, writing an unnaturally bright red and scrawled almost haphazardly onto the card, some sort of unreadable signature in the corner. And yes, it looked just like a playing card, and maybe the words on it held some sort of semblance, but I didn't care. I didn't need to.

I knew who this was. Hell, I'd been around long before they were created, and they used to be someone I could respect. Someone Pitch found detestable. Someone I'd never spoken to, not once. But I'd seen their calling card on doors in the earlier centuries, in baskets, hidden in trees and under over-turned water buckets, in destroyed foods and other places of mischief and juvenile pranks. I was surprised I recognized it now, surprised it hit me like I'd seen one yesterday, surprised I was so solid in my knowing of exactly who it was. Because yes, I did know who it was. Just not _why._

"...Just a small tribute, I promise. Biggest fan...Hal Overture Wean?" I heard Aster read the message, but the words barely even skimmed my subconscious. Because I needed to retreat. I needed to stop thinking. I needed to get out. I needed to _go. NOW._

I shoved off the bed and stood, knocking the card to the ground accidentally, Pitch's hand falling from my back as I winced, hand flying to my temple from the sudden pain the movement brought me.

"Astrid-!"

"I have to go." I cut off Tooth with a muted and struggled tone, not looking at any of them, just the floor. And then there were the eyes again, the eyes that I wanted to claw off my skin and away from me, the eyes that made my skin itch, that made me want to crawl into a hole where no one could see me because god damnit _I liked it better that way._

Everyone here looked at me as if I were something special, as if I deserved attention. They didn't avoid me, didn't give me space, didn't let me be alone. Everyone here treated me like a family member and I wasn't fucking ready for that yet! And then everything now happening so fast, from the dance and the spirits to the noise, to the creatures, to all this talk about 'hybrids' and then Hal and all of it and I just needed to leave!

"But As-"

"I have to go!" I snapped harshly at North, and I literally felt all of them recoil. Good. Finally, something I was used to.

Deep down inside, I did truly feel bad about what I was doing to them, about snapping and just storming out like this. They'd cared for me like no one else ever had...but I was also doing this for them. If this got to be too much, then I didn't think they'd take kindly to a repeat of the end of last night. No, no I needed to get out now.

And so I did. Without a word, I shoved past everyone and into the hall, turning and dead-sprinting blindly through the hall, hoping I'd come out somewhere safe, somewhere dark and lost and maybe I wouldn't have to come out again, not until it was all over. I got the next best thing when I ended up on the overlook, and didn't even think twice before kicking off the ground, the smoke below me billowing in distress as I shot through the hole in the ceiling, into the sky.

And then I just kept going. I didn't know where. I just went.

And didn't look back to see anything following me.

_~E. Aster Bunnymund~_

Deep inside of me, in a part that I may have abandoned long ago to make room for new centuries, something tugged, and when it tugged words spilled out of my mouth before anyone could stop me. Before even I could stop me.

"I'll go afta' her." My tone didn't give a rat's ass about what the other's had to say, it was just a statement that made everyone, including me, stop and stare. Pitch stood there, his hand still a bit out-stretched from being placed on her back, a gesture so familiar between the two that it genuinly shocked me. As if everything they did was normal. As if Pitch actually _did _take care of her like he said he did...

"You? What makes you think she wants to see you, of all people?" He asked in disgust and skepticism, nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed at me, as if I couldn't have said anything more pathetic. And part of me reacted because I just plain didn't like the guy, and the look he gave me, the tone he spoke in, rubbed every raw nerve in my body... And part of me reacted because of something I couldn't name, something inside that felt older than my body, if that made any sense, which to me it didn't make a lick.

An image flashed across my mind of her, back yesterday morning. And she'd seemed so bloody happy. I mean, for the first time, actually _happy._ Unguarded, excited, and for an instant I felt a connection that stretched way back in time, a lost something that was trying to find its way back to me. And then her face when Sophie tried to hug her. And the pure horror in her eyes. And then the other thing that I didn't recognize until I sat alone later, thinking about the whole thing and wondering why I was internally ripping myself apart for what I'd done. She'd looked guilty. Horribly, terribly guilty.

And I'd made it worse. I remembered a time when someone made a mistake completely not of their own accord, and I'd lost it. Took Jack awhile to forgive me completely for that, and I thought I'd gotten over it. But then...the things she'd said. Damnit, why didn't I stop when she'd said those things? That she didn't do anythin' right, that she was just tryin' to protect Sophie?...

_'You don't remember anything, do you?!'_

For once, they weren't the words of a crazy girl who had the wrong person. They felt real. They felt too real, and that look in her eyes looked too broken. And I wanted answers. I wanted to know why I felt this way. Why I felt that there was something there, something ancient. And I didn't want to have to explain myself to Pitch Black, or any of the others.

"I'm bloody goin'!" Was all I could say as I tapped the floor twice with my foot, dodging into the hole before any of them could argue, before any of them could say anything that would make me have to stay and explain anything. I couldn't explain anything. I had to get my answers, first.

_~Astrid~_

The bark wasn't even chipped, and the tree didn't look like it was about to rot, either. Man, if scientists nowdays found these trees, they'd be floored out of their minds. Hell, even I was surprised they both still stood, fresh as the day they were planted, frozen in the time they stopped growing. And maybe that was a good thing. It was a constant, a familiar constant outside of Pitch and my own messed-up life.

These trees would always be here. Memories faded, words died out, promises broke. But they were still here. They remembered. They always would.

I took in a deep breath of pine and grass and dirt, the sunshine for once something not unfamiliar, lighting up the world around me when I needed it, glinting gold and green off the grass around me as I sat on my feet, warming my bare shoulders, making me feel almost a bit healthier. I didn't know how I knew to come here, or how I knew it would instantly make everything fall into place like some giant puzzle, everything not quite so overwhelming. I just...did. I let the breath out.

"I've neva' seen trees like that before. Special?" The voice didn't make me jump like it should have, didn't make me cringe or hurt. My migraine was gone, but it was beyond that. It held no bitterness, in the tone or in me. And maybe it was just this place, the place where it all ended and began. The sanctuary. Everything was okay here, everything seemed almost easier, which was a vast improvement from how it had been just an hour before.

"Yeah, you could say that."I said with a bit of a chuckle, and heard him walk up behind me, stopping a few feet away. He paused, as if he didn't know what else to say, but his next words came easy and true.

"They got a story?" I couldn't believe I was actually smiling, but I was. Because it was easy. Because I felt like now, now that everything had been washed out and almost cleansed from me, the stress melted away for the moment, now...now I could almost tell him. And maybe it was a drastic change, but I'd gotten used to not questioning things anymore. I never really got any answers, anyway. So why not give a few?

"Yeah...mine, I guess." I paused, but he said nothing more, wanting me to go on. So I did, looking up at the trees, one taller than the other and a tad bit darker in the trunk. As I spoke I watched the pink and blue petals reflect in the sunlight, a few falling away and getting caught up in the wind and twisting and turning over each other. Others having held on for centuries, seeing as much as I had. And for once, the memories that filled me weren't painful.

"See, I lived a long, long time ago. Before people really settled anywhere, and there were only a few scattered...um...clans I guess, I think that's what people call them now. Basically we were a bunch of families with our own customs and everything, and I was the fourth youngest. Whenever someone's born, a seed is planted where they were...ya know...born. A tree grows there, and it doesn't stop growing, ever. It grows along with the person, and then they're buried under it, so families like giving birth all in one place, like a graveyard but the opposite."

"So that's yours?" Aster asked, and I nodded, looking at the pink one.

"Yeah, that's mine. Can't believe it came out fucking pink. No wonder I got freaking butterflies." I muttered, and I swore I almost heard him chuckle. He stopped a bit suddenly, though, and there was a tense silence before he spoke next, voice a bit wary and quiet.

"...But you neva' died, so..."

"They're connected to the person's soul, their life then. I didn't die, so neither did the tree, but I didn't grow either, so neither did it. No big deal, at least it'll be here as long as I am. Probably one of the only things as old as me." I said, rolling my shoulders back, relaxing into the ease of it all. There was a bit more rustling, and I was mildly surprised when Aster crouched next to me, sitting back on his haunches. I didn't look at him, and he didn't look at me, but we both acknowledged the other's existence.

"So the otha' one, whose is that?" He asked, and I felt a bit of irony and release as I told him. As if I were telling him in a way that wouldn't hurt him. A way that wouldn't ruin everything.

"That was my older brother's. See, his is a bit taller than mine, and his color was blue. That's the color he got when I had to paint him for birthday ceremonies and rights-of-passage." I explained, pointing up to it like a teacher to a child.

"S'that what those markin's on yer skin are for?" He asked curiously, and I suddenly remembered that yes, they were showing. I slowly lowered my arm and looked at them, at the faded marks on my skin, and muttered quietly,

"It was paint, but 'it' happened on his birthday. Guess it just kinda stayed." I felt Aster tense next to me, and heard him utter a soft curse. I waited a moment for him to speak, nothing feeling rushed or forced. Just explanations. And it felt great. Terrible. Wonderful. Easy. Hard.

"That's..."He stopped, and then started again differently. "How'd yer brother take it?" The pain didn't come, and it allowed me to answer freely, almost bitterly, nostalgically.

"He didn't know. MiM erased his memory of ever having a sister. He never even saw me, just walked right through me, no matter how loud I yelled." The words came out muted and emotionless, almost too easy now, and the brunt of their force that was lost on me seemed to his Aster hard. He tensed even further, and this time cursed louder, sinking lower in his sitting position. And maybe I should have said more, maybe I should have offered him something like 'oh, it's okay, it didn't hurt that bad' or 'I barely ever think about it now'.

But I couldn't bring myself to do that. Because it did hurt. Because I did think about it. Because it wasn't fucking okay, and I just needed someone to _see_ that. I needed someone else besides me to carry that burden, and maybe that was selfish of me, maybe that was a seriously bitch-move...but I needed it. Needed him to know. Even if he didn't remember. It was close enough.

"Aster, did you ever ask Tooth about your memories?" I asked softly, and finally looked up at him. He looked down at me, and for a moment, I swear to MiM for a moment...

"ASTRID!" He suddenly shouted, and I gasped as he jumped on top of me, the sound of shrieking suddenly ripping from the treeline around us and up above, the stench almost overpowering, though nothing like it had been, the remaining pollution in my lungs wheezing and making me roll over and cough. Aster stood, yanking me to my feet as the sound of boomerangs whizzing through the air sounded.

They were here. They were _here._ How the hell had they found us so fast? It didn't make any sense, they'd attacked last night, why again? Why now? Why without Pitch?...

I opened my eyes enough to see the black masses crawling slowly towards us, much closer to Aster than to me. Which, if what Pitch had said was correct, didn't make any sense. I panted, wheezing and coughing as I wound up some smoke with one hand, reeling it back and throwing it forward at the line of creatures, the shrieks pitching until they were cut off. My heart pounded in my ears, eyes flickering everywhere, trying to find a way out, trying to figure out how to get Aster out of here at the very least, Aster taking a few steps away from me to angle better at the lines, shouting something at me that was lost in the noise.

"Wha-" I was cut off as I tried to ask him what he'd said, tried to figure out what he was trying to tell me, the eyes of the creatures crawling forwards and swarming up from the treeline. They glared hungrily at Aster, but they all ignored me. And I should have seen it coming. Damnit, I should have seen it coming. Because Aster was distracted, and I wasn't paying any attention.

My voice stopped as a hand slammed over my face, and in that hand something feathery and flakey, like ash or very, very thin flakes of tree bark. But I knew better than that. Knew the smell better than that, directly flying into my lungs as I breathed in, eyes flying open and instantly flailing backwards. I slammed into something hard and the hand pressed even harder, my own hands flying up and scratching, clawing at the hand that kept the fallout there, my lungs convulsing as the stench and pollution flew in.

I tried to scream, but I couldn't breathe in, and when I could it came out as silenced wheezing, a feeling of fear exploding through me, eyes watering as I struggled for air. The feeling of suffocation, of blacking out, of knowing I'd been caught, of knowing what was going on and nothing of what was happening all at the same time. My lungs closed, the stench burned in my veins, adrenaline spiked and fell harshly, blackness dotted my vision in a way that was far too familiar, and even as I kicked and scratched and fought, the hand remained.

I saw Aster fighting as everything hazed out, heard the shrieks of the creatures. But it all faded.

Then fingertips lightly across the side of my neck. A breath in my hair. A pleased whisper.

"Hello, Astrid."


	13. Product of Boredom

_~Pitch Black~_

The thrum of my fingers on the window was the only thing keeping me relatively calm at the moment. The annoyance of the others could go to hell for all that I cared.

"So...um..." Tooth began, trying to break the silence that had fallen after that Pooka decided to play hero and go after her, "...Who _is _Hal, anyway? I mean I think I've heard the name, but..." She trailed off, and I sighed, free hand rubbing down my face as the others stood and stared, the dusty smell of North's office doing nothing for my nerves.

"Honestly, you're supposed the god-fathers of the world, the almighty 'Guardians', and you don't even know who _Hal Overture Wean _is? That's just pathetic." I spat, shaking my head. It was no wonder they'd never heard of Astrid before Frost had befriended her somehow. Too caught up in their own little worlds...

"I met him a few times." Frost pipped up, and I cast him a sidelong glance, raising a brow as he shrugged easily and tapped the staff against the back of the chair he sat on, frost spiralling out in patterns. "He's got this weird kinda thing with pranks, but not the good kind. Kinds that actually hurt people sometimes, ya know?"

"Like taking someone on a wild sleigh-ride through the street and getting them hit with a sofa?" Tooth offered, making Jack blush like a school girl and shrug. I inwardly groaned at them and my tapping became slightly more fervent, jaw clenched tightly as I imagined Astrid out there, alone, with that man able to tell her location, only that damned Pooka out there to protect her. And I wanted to go, to help her, but knew that if anything happened here then these buffoons were done for, and we might actually need them eventually.

"He is the Spirit of Trickery. I assume you all know what 'Halloween' is? That's his own ego-trip, naming this own holiday after himself." I mused, grimacing as I looked out the window, still not seeing Astrid, or even feeling her for that matter. I frowned, searching through my own mind but finding nothing but the trivial fears of the Guardians and a few yetis nearbye. But not Astrid's. I always felt Astrid's...

"What, he got some grudge against you guys or something?" Frost asked, and I gave a non-committal noise, throwing over my shoulder,

"None that I would know of, but who knows? Astrid and I seem to be a favored villain amongst obscure spirits."

"Does not make sense, why would Hal vant conflict with Boogeyman and Astrid? Took five Guardians to take down Pitch! And Astrid es even stronger!"

"Stronger?"

"I mean Pitch es not as strong as before-"

"I'm not?"

"But Astrid could hold own against army!"

"You wouldn't be saying that if you saw the French Revolution incident-"

"Maybe there's something more to this, something with Astrid."

"I'm standing right here-" A sharp and all-too-sudden explosion of sound screeched through my head, and before I could even finish talking I threw myself backwards, hands pressing hard into my head, crying out in pain. It ripped through my skull in a shrill, raw form of fear, loud enough to be blinding, familiar enough to make me gasp, trying to form words through it all, bursts of it behind my eyes, buzzing through my veins.

"Pitch! Oh, what's happening?!"

I grit my teeth and took in a pained breath, trying to get words out through it, trying to shove past it and tell them to go, to find her, to do _anything_, but I couldn't. It was too strong, too painful, too loud, too sifling and ripping and shrill and-

-it stopped.

Suddenly, it just dropped off. It didn't fade. It didn't lessen. It was just _gone. _There was silence, in my head and outside, my own pulse stopped, breath gone. Just horror and dread. I felt something begin to coil within me, fingers curling in on the window behind me, and I glared wide-eyed at the floor before me. Because I just knew. I just knew.

"...He found her."

_~Astrid~_

Convulsions woke me up.

My eyes flew open suddenly as I felt it come up, flying forward with my wrists bound by something scratchy and strong, causing me to have no option but cough the blood up on my lap. I wheezed and shook, this time without a hand to comfort me, on my own and trying to push through it, something tight and terrible in my gut. This one lasted longer than the last one, too. My throat felt raw, body felt weak, and it kept going. It felt like the pollution was just stuck to my lungs despite the blackness that I threw up, at first without any blood at all.

But, eventually, it did begin to die down, just when I thought my body was going to give out, when I thought I was going to suffocate for a second time. It tremored through me for a few more minutes before I managed to take in a strangled, forced breath, gagging for a second before managing to get myself halfway under control.

It was only then that I was able to take stock of where I was, remembering partially what had happened before I blacked out, it all being a blur anyways. I was still leaned over myself, feeling the blackness and blood fall down my legs, most of it on the ground before me and making me cringe in disgust. Other than that, my wrists were tied, and when I looked back to see by what I paused, confused for a moment.

I sat on what appeared to be something hard and orange, wrists tied down on either side by what looked like coarse, hay-like rope that attached to the orange thing. And the orange thing was glowing. And then, in an instant, it all clicked. I quickly looked directly below me, to where the flickering was, moving my legs so that the damned dress didn't block my view, only to see a face carved crudely into the face of the pumpkin, a candle flickering inside of it.

And when it clicked, when I realized what had happened, I cursed myself, because damnit I wasn't some freaking damsel in distress! People didn't need to come and save me all the damn time...that is, if I stopped getting myself into these situations in the first place.

"Good to see you awake, for a moment I thought I'd actually killed you." I heard a slightly scratchy, middle-aged voice say. A voice I faintly remembered. My skin crawled at it, anger coiled in my gut, my jaw clenched tightly.

"You're joking, right?" I spat, and stiffly managed to sit up a bit straighter, face still pointing down just in case. But when he laughed, it snapped up.

I looked up at him incredulously, eyes narrowed, wondering if he was truly, actually laughing. And he was. Too hard. In fact, he looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, giving me time to actually take in this guy, memory refreshing from the few times I'd passed right by him before.

Sitting on a giant, damp-looking hey barrel, he had one leg crossed over the other, leaning slightly forward. He had shoulder-length black hair, parted in the middle and greasy-looking, casting shadows over a surprisingly youthful face, his voice not exactly matching how he looked. Pale skin was only slightly sunken, dark circles around bright eyes that remained open when he laughed, casting fiery orange glows on his cheeks. Like two little candle flames. Jack-o-lantern. I got it.

He wore a pair of black pants, patches sewn onto the knees in dark brown, the edges frayed and tearing over a pair of worn black shoes. He wore no shirt, showing a gaunt and almost too-thin upper body, covered only by a long, thread-bare scarf that wound around his neck and hung to his navel. The rest of him was just pale, pale and shadowed. A hand reached up and combed back the hair on one side of his face as he laughed, a bit too high sounding, before he took in a sharp breath and suddenly stopped, still smiling.

And his smile was like venom and acid and a whole bucket of crazy.

"Oh, you got me! Of _course _I'm joking, nothing can kill you, can it? Nope, not _tonight_ at least, not with you-know-who watching." He said in an amused and excited tone, poking a thumb upwards. Above us trees arched inwards, one column of moonlight reaching the ground to my right. We were in an odd clearing, circled in to my left but with a straight path to my right, the entire ground covered in hay with what looked like village lights off in the distance.

"If you know you can't kill me," I began, turning to him, a bit of unease growing in my gut as I saw his perfectly calm demeanor, something not-quite-right about him, "Then why take me here? Why tie me up when you know I can get out in a second?" He sat back a bit and quickly crossed both legs in front of him, holding out his arms and showing a half-hidden tattoo on his chest of something circular and dark, eyebrows raised.

Something about him, about how his look sent chills up my spine, those bright orange eyes glowing into me and halting me there, the fact that this man was the one who had been collecting tragedy and fear and creating those creatures, the man who had been stalking me... Just finally seeing him in the flesh, seeing his eyes, feeling the air of unease and instability that he emitted, it all felt both surreal and too real at the same time.

"Oh Astrid, the same reason you _haven't _gotten out yet!" He spoke with dramatics and ease, Hal Overture Wean, the icon behind Halloween. But he didn't seem like a kid's holiday type to me. In fact, he looked like someone who children should stay damn-well clear of. He leaned forward suddenly, voice dropping dramatically as he asked, pointing to me, "Don't you want to know _why, how, when?_"

Why, how, when? I leaned back a bit, both of us a few feet apart but too close for my own comfort, heart beginning to pound, not knowing what he meant. He seemed to understand this somehow, and gave me an amused look, shaking his head, a lock of black falling in his face, eyes moving eerily across my face.

"Oh, Astrid, I know you do. How about this: I know you're a bit flustered right now, probably shaken and maybe a bit scared, but hey, don't worry! I'm not going to hurt you! Oh MiM no, I wouldn't do that, what good would that do me? I'd have quite the group of people angry at me, wouldn't I now? No, see, here's what I wanted to do, if you're up for it.

"See, I wanted to get you somewhere safe, where we could talk without your friends rudely interrupting and that tall, dark, and hansom companion of yours getting hostile. Because isn't that the main flaw in every villain? Not that they take time to discuss their plans, but they do it in front of all the others! No, I say take one of them and give them the common courtesy to know what they're in for. It's only manners!" He exclaimed as I looked at him, completely convinced that he was insane. The way he spoke was bi-polar, going from serious to angry to teasing in less than a second, and just the look in his eyes...

I wanted to get out. Man, I really wanted to get out...but he was right. Now, at least. The others were no doubt already looking for me, Aster able to take those creatures even if they didn't leave with me and Hal. If I knew they were going to get here, that I could leave at any time, then why not make it worth it? Why not use his insanity and ego-centricism to my advantage?

I had more questions than I could even sort through, so why not let this nut-job answer some of them? I gave him a sizing look, reminding myself that he couldn't actually hurt me, and finally offered a small nod. His face lit up in a grin, sitting straight up quickly and clapping his hands together.

"Great! Oh, where do I begin?! There's just so much to it, I mean this has been going on for a _very _long time! Let's see...hm...okay okay, how about I just start from the start, hm?" He asked, and I managed a nod, just telling myself not to run, not to over react. This was the one time that over reacting wasn't acceptable. No, I got myself into this mess, I might as well do something for the team. He repeated my nod and cracked his neck, then leaned forward in almost a story-telling mode, hands flying around and visually demonstrating everything.

"Well, when our friend in the sky decided to use me as one of his little helpers, everything was fine and dandy! I mean my death wasn't too traumatic, just an odd disease that affected everyone at some point, I can't believe I forgot the name... Oh well, I still had a fairly alright afterlife. I mean, I could fly! I could cause tricks and pranks whenever the fancy struck me by just lifting a finger! And oh, children loved it!

"I did this before I died, but after it was just so much easier! So much fun, you know? I didn't even mind that people couldn't see me! Only made things interesting. I could pull a sheet over my head and be a ghost, or put a pumpkin on my head and chase people! That's where Halloween traditions came from, all from me! I went from a sick boy to a holiday figure! It was great, it was fan_tastic!_"

"So...why this? All of this?" I asked hesitantly, and he winked excitedly.

"Ah, there's the 'why'! And it's pretty simple really. All of this, these creatures, those years of figuring out how to make them, of collecting, and then everything I've done to all of you! I'm sure you'd expect some massive purpose behind it all, right? Some grudge I have against you and the Boogeyman, a deep-seeded anger withing me, right? But you see, Astrid, I'm not actually angry about anything." He leaned forward, hands splayed out in almost a shrug, sighing tiredly.

"Astrid, I'm just _bored._"

My heart stopped, skin crawled as I looked at his face, searched for even a shread of playfulness, of joking, of some sick, twisted sense of humor that I wouldn't put past this man. His eyes glowed like candles in a pumpkin, his mouth set into an easy frown, eyebrows slightly raised, hands splayed out. He silently said 'that's it'. That's it. He was bored.

He made those things because he was _bored?_ As if it were some sort of game where you made your own rules, as if our existences were made up of things to keep us entertained, no consequences, just actions and entertainment of our own. He did this, all of this, because he was bored? He made enemies with the Guardians, with Pitch Black, with me, because he was bored.

"Oh, don't give me that look!" He laughed playfully, me knowing damn well what I must have looked like. Shocked. Unnerved. Whatever look people got when they realized that the person they were talking to was 100% certifiably insane. He continued laughing, one hand pressing to his bare stomach and the other waving at me as if I were doing something, his eyes never closing in a highly uncomfortable way.

And I just sat there, mind racing, half begging him to continue, half begging myself to just GET OUT. Honestly, I'd expected whoever was making those creatures to be a bit on the crazy side...but this...

"I don't get it." I said finally, glaring a bit at him and shaking my head that still hurt a bit, thinking of all the things this guy had done, all the things I had to go through, the suffocation, the pain, the nightmares, the life-changing conflicts, the fear, all because this bastard was fucking _bored?_

"Don't get what?" He asked simply, letting one leg dangle over the haystack. I noticed he couldn't keep still, constantly shifting sitting positions and arm movements. "Aw c'mon, don't tell me you haven't gotten bored with it all! I mean wow, you've lived a LOT longer than I have, I can't even imagine what it's like to live day after day after day after day with the same old routine!

"It was all fun and games, literally, in the beginning. But then people began to want the same thing over and over, and I wanted to progress! But no, they wouldn't let me. No, they made Halloween, the few who remembered my name, in my honor. And I HATED it. Same holiday, same costumes, same customs, same pranks and games and tricks year after year!

"Astrid don't you get it? I can't live like that! Not for all of eternity! I mean, who could? I honestly don't know how you've done it. I just...I can't do that! I. Just. Can't!" At this point he'd jumped down from the hay barrel and was now walking back and forth in front of me, speaking quickly until I could barely make out his words, a hand running through greasy black hair, the scarf swaying to and fro, hay crunching beneath his feet as I tested the bonds on my wrists. Yep, they'd definitely give if I just used my own strength.

But even as freaked-out and mildly pissed-off as I was, even though I knew this guy was insane, that Hal O. had some serious issues to push through in an intense therapy session, some part of me stayed. This was the man that created those creatures. He bonded tragedy and fear. Yes, he was insane, but he was dangerous, too. The more I knew, the better.

So, I took a big-girl breath and kept listening, just as Hal suddenly stopped walking. He paused, as if realizing he'd freaked out a bit, and took in a deep breath, letting it out loudly. Suddenly, he slapped both hands together in front of him, making me jump a bit as he spun around and offered an apologetic smile.

"Anyways!" He exclaimed chipperly, as if he hadn't just had a meltdown, "Where was I?...Oh, right! Bored. Sooooo bored. So I did something about it, like anyone would do. When a child's bored, they watch TV, or make something out of arts and crafts. I personally chose the latter, television these days just serving to be a bit depressing, and I'm not a depressing guy.

"I made something, Astrid. You've met them!" He said chipperly, and I tensed as the familiar smell wafted through the air, trying not to look like it affected me as he reached out a hand lazily, something half-hopping, half-limping out from behind the haystack. The creature, up this close, was even worse than I could have imagined. It walked like it was severely wounded, all because its joints weren't in the right places, bones actually shifting under the surface when pressure was applied to them, their skin too tight and oily, black.

Their mouths dripped a vapor-like spit, falling liquid before evaporating in a toxic-looking fog, the eyes crusted on the edges, bent completely over with protruding spines. And Hal ran a hand along it as if it were nothing more than a household pet, a lazy smile on his face and giving a sigh.

"Beautiful, isn't he? Or she...I don't quite know how to tell, to be honest with you." He mused, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, the creature's eyes locking onto me in absolute hunger, taking in a shuttering and high-pitched breath. I tensed, fists clenching and ready to fight out against it if it attacked, heel of one foot digging roughly into the dirt, wrists raw and red from straining against the ropes while trying not to break them.

My bones shuddered in danger, every nerve screaming to leave, to get out, to go, just like I always did. I always ran away when there was danger, and I was still alive, wasn't I?...

"A product of boredom can become something magnificent." Hal breathed in reverence, fingers ghosting over the triangular-shaped head of the creature, looking at it as if it were his child. "It took me a surprisingly long amount of time to get the nightmare sand I'd collected and you smoke to conjoin. See, I knew of you two well before you knew of me, you two being slightly infamous and all. And the more I saw you, the more I watched, the more I learned, the more I knew you two were perfect candidates to end my boredom.

"You both have been alive longer than anything on this planet. You're both so _strong_, as well, and so restless! Boogeyman already tried to spice things up a bit! Tried to change his whole life, until the Guardians intervened. Oh my, now that was inspiration! I could change my own life, could end my own boredom if I wanted it enough! And I did want it...but see, this all began far, far before a measly eight months ago.

"No, Astrid...it started with you." He looked up at me, eyes glowing in either hunger or admiration, I couldn't tell. Either way, it looked venomous, it looked breathy, it looked absolutely insidious. I felt myself cringe, but tried to remain calm, tried to look interested and listening, wanting him to go on...

...But something told me he'd keep going on, even if I did look terrified. He lifted his hand from the creature and rubbed his fingers together, some of the fallout dusting off his hands.

"Imagine me, one hundred and nineteen years old, life an empty existence of pure repetition, no idea how to change that. And then I stumble across a tale, hidden in a book that later found its way into Santa's workshop. Imagine me reading this tale, seeing you for the first time. The girl who took what MiM said was her destiny and _spat in his face._ That's when I learned what could change my life, Astrid. From you. I learned what it was called when you're told you have a certain destiny, but you don't make that your future.

"Defiance. You taught me that." He said, voice a whisper now, hand out to me, showing me the fallout, face bright with reverence and nostalgia, "For that, I knew I had to do something for you. You know, like how they have those 'teacher appreciation' days, except this is a lifetime, not just one little day. I mean, really, all of this is a product of you inspiring me, so I figured you should get something out of it, too."

He walked forward and I instinctively leaned back, not liking where this conversation was heading but not about to stop him, either. He leaned down a bit, hands bracing themselves on his knees, a grin on his face that showed pure-white teeth and an admiring, relishing look, my jaw clenched tight and every nerve screaming at me to get away, get away NOW, but I fought them down. I had to hear this. I had to know, to fit these messed-up puzzle pieces together...

"Astrid, do you know what I'm saying here? I'm helping you make the next step. You broke from the norm, you defied your own _purpose, _Astrid. Now it's time to shake things up a bit, and I'm going to help you do that. Well, really, I already have." He said, shrugging and smiling. And I gaped. I didn't give a shit anymore about appearances or egging him on. This asshole was gonna keep talking regardless, and after what he just said everything from before flew out the window.

Because this was _his fault._

"You're doing all of this because you think I'm _bored?! _Because you want to 'spice up' my life? I've never even met you, and you want to go and call me some 'teacher', that I taught you something and now you're paying me back? Are you joking? Do you know the kind of hell these creatures have put me through over the past few days, do you?! If you want to pay me back for anything, then leave me the hell alone!" I snapped, leaning forward and glaring, anger boiling hot in my veins.

I just thought of everything that had happened, everything, and it was all because some wack-job took the worst moment in my life and turned it into some lesson?! And now he wanted to pay me back? How the bloody hell did I attract this kind of crazy?! All of it, everything, because one guy found some freaking book? That's all that this was? That's what was supposed to make it all worth it?!

And I seethed, muscles coiling under my skin, the back of my neck tightening in rage as I tried to contain every ounce of tragedy in my body, tried not to let it spill out, to keep that under control. And man, I saw my face in the reflection of his eyes, and if looks could kill he'd be six feet under and counting...

But he just kept smiling. As if it all made sense in his mind.

"Astrid," He said airily and adoringly, shaking his head at me, "You don't really get it, do you? Yes, this might seem like an awful lot of trouble for one person to another. I mean, centuries spent until I realized that if I infused enough of the nightmare sand and your beautiful smoke into little statues that I made when I was younger, just a few hundred years old, then the very essence of them mixed with a little bit of my own magic...well, they literally came to LIFE!

"Centuries of sculpting twigs and mud and blood. Centuries of collecting, of perfecting. Centuries of planning perfectly until I finally felt the time was right, until I felt you truly needed this...yes. Yes, it seems like an awful lot of work, awful lot of dedication. But, Astrid, know this: I'm doing this all for your own good and mine. Your so stuck in your life that you don't even see how pointless it is! I mean yes, that lesson was something, let me tell you that, but then you evened out!

"And Astrid, I will not let a legend like you just fade. Fade into a boring, nothingness life." He whispered, reaching a hand up and not touching my cheek, but pantomiming stroking it with the tips of his fingers. Behind us, suddenly, I began to hear cracks and snaps of twigs, began to hear faint, far-off voices, and my heart jumped. I recognized those voices. Recognized the sound of those horse footfalls. And suddenly my screaming nerves began to shriek, begging me to go to them, to join them and take this man down once and for all...

...But he held me there with his gaze, even as it flickered upwards at the moon above us, the gleam of moonlight slowly shifting closer and closer. I couldn't move, not one inch, his voice hushed even as the others began to near.

"...Not tonight, no. He can still see you tonight, you're still under his protection...but Astrid, I promise I will not let you fade into nothing..." His eyes flickered to me, the smile growing twisted on his face. There was a flash of something below us, his hand moving with it, holding something reflective in the moonlight as it fell directly above us, the crashes almost directly behind us now, and I could not move as he spoke.

"...I will give you the glorious death you deserve."

Moonlight flashed once, twice, and by the third time it enveloped everything, flashing pure and white, and the two little flickering flames in front of me drew back quickly, almost as if they had never been there. But they had been. I knew they had been. Because I could still feel them, even as the world turned white. Even as everything silenced and stilled. And there was only white for the longest time.

_~Pitch Black~_

It was as if one instant had us in the forest, barreling to where I felt her fear, thrumming in the back of my mind, and in the instant that followed there was just white, white and silence. I couldn't tell exactly what happened until the instant that followed the previous. Three instances happening in such quick succession that I had to take a moment to process everything, to look around, to make sure her fear still thrummed in my mind.

The white had faded instantly, like the flash of a camera, on and off before one could blink. And when it faded, the first thing I saw was Astrid, on the floor, her eyes closed and laying neatly on her back, almost as if someone had placed her that way. In an instant I knelt next to her, the pure-white floor below me contrasting with the dress she still wore, seeing blood trailing down her shins with the familiar black substance flecking it.

In a slight panic, I pressed a hand to her throat, knowing full well that she wasn't dead but still recovering from the thrill and sudden silence of her fears. A pulse thrummed just as steadily as her fear in my mind, even as she was unconscious, a butterfly-like pulse under my finger tips. I released a breath of air and smoothed the hair from the side of her face, seeing her eyes flickering behind closed eyelids. She was sleeping.

Above me I heard Toothiana gasp, and before I even looked up I knew what she was seeing. She was not looking at Astrid. At the moment, none of them were. Because I knew this floor, the floor I'd once stood upon as I watched Astrid make her decision from above. The floor I'd made small-talk on with the man standing just a ways away from me. The man I knew stood there, on this floor made of a material not of Earth, but instead just a bit farther off.

"...I did not expect for us to meet again, under these circumstances." The voice of the man was aged and articulate, making the language seem almost ancient, almost foreign, but perfectly spoken in a practiced way. I gazed down at Astrid for a moment before slowly lifting my gaze to the man, offering him a frown and knowing gaze, this man I hadn't seen in centuries, wearing the same flowing white robe, grey sash pulled across the center with moon phases embroidered into it. White hair flowing down to his shoulders, grey braids intermingled. A face not nearly as aged as the voice. Same as he had always been. And always would be.

"Same to you, MiM. Now where was it we left off?"


	14. Image and Reality

_-It's about midnight as I write this, so forgive any__plotshots__and let me know if you want to see anything more or fix anything! Enjoy 3 -_

_~Pitch Black~_

Astrid shifted in the bed, face scrunching and making that irritated noise in the back of her throat she often made when having not quite a nightmare, not quite a dream. I sighed, reaching a hand forward and brushing her hair from her face, the pure-white of the bed beneath her contrasting with the black hair and almost, almost, letting me see a shimmer of blue somewhere. But possibly that was from my own fatigue.

"She is stronger now than before, if that is even quite possible." I scoffed and stood from where I'd crouched, having gotten her situated in the solitary bed that most likely hadn't been there until we arrived. The whole rest of the room was massive, dwarfing in fact, and bare of anything except a ceiling painted with constellations. I turned to the voice, measuring him with icy judgement, seeing the ancient figure's eyes falling onto her in a way that made my skin crawl, made me grimace in distaste.

Longing. Regret. Pain. But not once ounce of what she really wanted from him. No, of course not. He couldn't feel that, for if he did then we might not be in this whole mess in the first place. If he could feel that, we all might be in very different situations. But 'guilt' was something his pride would not allow.

"Indeed she is. Bitter pill to swallow, isn't it?" I mused, suddenly noticing the other Guardians as they tensed around him, my entire focus on either Astrid or this man from the moment he summoned us here against our will. They all stayed a respectful distance away from the man, as if getting too close would burn them, or they'd be shamed in some way, as if this man could ever truly do anything bad to his Guardians.

"I am glad for her." He said quietly, looking up at me with a face too young for the voice, too old for the bright silver of his eyes that scrawled over me, nodding, a frown under a silver beard that creased his aged skin almost too easily, skin that moved in a way that made him seem much more expressive than he really was. And there was a weight in that gaze, on that face. A weight that looked like it had been pressing there for quite some time, a weight that had to do with why we were here.

I read his fears like a book, all bubbles of noise that were low and annoying, fears of Hal, fears for his Guardians and the children, fear of being found-out, fear of their reactions, fear of what he'd allowed to happen, fear of failure. But one actually made me sneer, one made a dangerous-feeling smile coil onto my face, feeling the venom in my own blood. _'Ah yes, there's some sense in that head yet'_ I thought, the distinct fear ringing in my head. Fear I was glad he had. Fear I wanted to fester.

Fear of Astrid.

"Glad? Oh, I'm sure you are. Glad that she's been through hell, I assume? Or glad that she just got kidnapped by a psychopath?" I asked, seeing his eyes widen in surprise as I stepped a bit closer, motioning a hand towards her as this man, this cowering, trembling, pitiful man tried to look angry or in control, only succeeding at looking weak, as always. Now, I wasn't exactly sure why we were here, or what he thought he could accomplish or explain by having us here, and I couldn't honestly care less.

"Honestly, if I were you, I'd be terrified for when she actually wakes up and _sees _you." I mused, looking over at Astrid, sleeping obliviously as the fear tried to level out in her mind, the noises unconcentrated and scattered, like frightened mice darting everywhere, the fear itself disoriented and not sure what to be or how to feel. Whatever Hal Wean had told her had set her severely off-balance, and she needed as much rest as possible before she woke back up in this mess of a life she had.

"...Pitchiner, I am here merely to help, nothing has-"

"It's Pitch, you pathetic little man. And I wouldn't immediately assume that, after all the _help _you've given her over the years, she will even accept your offer, whatever it may be." I cut him off sharply, offering a sarcastic and icy smile as I shrugged, his eyes wide and caught between hurt and anger, somehow aging them and creating more wrinkles.

Before he could speak, before he could try to defend himself, I walked brusquely past. Since the moment we'd come here, I could feel his eyes on her. Feel the desperation in them, sense how he actually thought, after all this time, after everything he'd done, that she'd just... No. No, I knew Astrid better than that. Much better.

He can give her a room and take us here for 'protection' or whatever he had done it for, but he couldn't make her trust him. He couldn't make either of us accept his help. And he certainly couldn't keep me in that room... And yet, even as I made my way past the Guardians, even as I stepped out through the ornate, massive, white-laden door, even as I made my way into the shadows of the glitteringly white hall, I couldn't help but pause just behind the door and wait. Couldn't help but listen to them speak through the unsteady thrum of Astrid's fear...

_~E. Aster Bunnymund~_

Manny didn't even flinch as Pitch left, my jaw almost slack if it weren't for the anger coursing through me, shocked that anyone would talk to Manny in such a way. Then again, it was Pitch, wasn't it? He didn't have a reason to respect this man before us, the man who let of a faint and constant glow, as if he'd absorbed the moonlight itself into his very being, the man who spoke eloquently and evenly, the man who had created us and called upon us to help protect the children...

And I hated it, hated it, but I'd always imagined meeting this man, meeting the Man in the Moon, and being just completely awestruck and humbled by everything he'd done for us, to lay eyes on a being that cared so completely for the children of the world that he'd made his own army of spirits to protect them against the darkness...I'd always imagined that. But that wasn't what happened now.

Now, all I could think of was what Pitch had said about Astrid waking up, about the 'help' MiM had given her...about talking to her at those two trees. Right before we'd been attacked, even before I spoke to her, I'd gone to find her without any questions asked. And I wasn't sure if I'd just been around her too much, wasn't sure if I just got too close to her, but something in my chest pulled at her, that old and ancient thing hidden away somewhere seeing that desperate look in her eyes...

I had to follow her. And when I did, when she finally spoke to me in a way that made me believe her, when she told me about her, about her brother, it suddenly made everything that much more complicated. I looked at him, at the Man in the Moon, and tried my bloody hardest to see him like I always had, like the silent vigil in the night, like the father-figure of everyone, like the man who could do no wrong. I tried and tried again.

But I couldn't. Because I knew too much about Astrid, and that man I had in my mind couldn't have done any of those things. And I wanted answers, but couldn't ask them, couldn't bring myself to that level of disrespect, couldn't admit to myself that Pitch may be even the slightest bit justified...

Manny chuckled a bit, but it was heavy and almost a bit bitter, sending a wave of unease through all of us. To see a figure like Manny acting like this...it wasn't right. It was like a child seeing their parent crying, or soldier seeing their commander freaking out. It was ground-shaking. Something Astrid tended to do to us a lot, even when she was sleeping.

Manny walked forward a bit and rested one of his hands on the end of the bed, the cold metal rising up at the foot shimmering like all the rest and creating a moon-like arch over the end, acting as a foot board. And the man who had stood so straight when we'd arrived, the man who did wash us all over in awe in the beginning, suddenly looked tired at Pitch's words, weary even. And a flash of anger ran through me.

I hated this, hated questioning everything. I hated my views being changed, hated seeing things I didn't want to see. I hated everything Astrid had brought unto us, hated every word Pitch had spoken that was raw and brutally true. In fact, I hated every moment from the second we'd met those two, those two who took my fine-and-dandy world and ripped it open, showing the raw and brutal insides, showing us truth and erasing the black-and-white of it all. I hated that it couldn't be undone.

"Manny." I heard North say softly, all of us looking over as the large man took a tentative step forward, an odd expression on his face that I couldn't read, "...Manny, zere are...many questions to be had. Some to be discussed once Astrid wakes up, no? Yes. Es easier zat way, if es alright with you, to discuss Hal spirit and reason for us being here in first place." Manny nodded slowly, still looking at the sleeping Astrid, her face scrunching a bit in sleep.

"Yes, yes I think that would be best Nicholas. All of us may need a break after what we have been through as of recently. My home is and always will be open to all of you, and you my roam and rest where you please. I will send word for you when Astrid wakes up, and then we may all collect our thoughts together. Here, I promise, you are under my full and capable protection." He said sincerely and with warmth, and yet when North spoke next it was still tentative, nervous.

"Es great honor Manny, and we all thank you very much for opportunity and assistance...but as of late...as of meeting Astrid, that is...there are..._other _questions that we would like answered."

The room was silent, everyone silently hoping that Manny hadn't been insulted and at the same time that he would answer, that he would give us his side of the events. To prove them true or false. Paraphrased or to-the-point. We just had to get resolution. Had to know if Manny could actually do something like that to a child...

Manny was silent for a long while, his back to us and robe falling into a train on the floor, pure white with a grey sash that had emblemized moon phases all along it's length. He paused, and I wished I could have seen the emotions crossing his face, wished I could have at least known if he were angry and upset or please or something other than silent, because bloody hell I wanted to know! I had to, we all did...

"...She has spoken to you, I have seen it from up here in my own home, but you must understand first how extraordinary that is. She has lived her life in severe isolation, Pitch her only companion in times of great need. She has trusted no other, but then again you all were very special. That is why I chose all of you in the first place. Children, of any age, trust you...

"Why I chose Astrid, though, was quite different. And I suppose that is where I must start if I am to answer your questions, my children, for it seems..." He paused, and then looked up at the ceiling, as if the constellations painted above held some answer, "After all these centuries, and in light of recent circumstances, it seems that the time for truth has come. You all deserve answers." His voice trailed off for a moment, my hands fidgeting with the brown sling in apprehension and eagerness.

I wanted to hear this. I didn't want to hear this. Everyone was shifting as I was, thinking as I was, all of us terrified of hearing the truth and relieved that it was finally coming out. We were all too ready for this. We weren't ready at all. Manny spoke regardless, turning and walking over to Astrid's bedside, face now visible as heavy, saddened, a bittersweet smile in his eyes, a self-depreciating grimace on his face. He looked old. He looked tired. He looked nothing like the Man in the Moon that I'd envisioned.

"It all began when I felt myself strong enough, when I felt the world ready to begin, and when the time had come to make something of my existence. You see, my children, I had existed for a time infinitely greater than that of this planet's existence, and will continue to live past its extinction. But when it came to be, when people began to show intelligence, when they began to show traits and values, I knew that great good was going to be sowed into the soil...but with great good, there would be great evil to combat it.

"Therefore, before the evil could begin to spread, I had to act. It was agreeably a...trial period, one could say. I was ancient in terms of existence, but an infant when it came to creating beings to assist me in a war that had not yet begun. As I went along, it got easier, it improved, and I rarely had a moment of poor judgement, Jack being one of the exceptions when I chose to deny him of his memories."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jack shift a bit, but Manny moved on, speaking as if telling a sad tale, as if telling a melancholy bedtime story.

"...But Astrid had the unfortunate gift of being the first. Tragedy and pain had already spread through the world, and I wanted nothing more than to start with a clean slate. So I searched for someone I knew could handle it all, someone strong and fierce, someone with a heart both warm and made of steel. A true warrior." He reached a hand forward as if to brush it across Astrid's face, but stopped abruptly when he got too near, as if burned by just being close to her. His features creased a bit in sadness and he closed his eyes, inhaling before continuing, hand still outstretched.

"I found that in Astrid. I delved into her past and found that she had lost both parents to treachery within their village, killed by her uncle who wished to cement a place in the monarchy of the tribe and was later sentenced to death himself. That was her only family, other than her older brother for whom kept the warmth going in her heart when the rest of it closed off, the love in her icy kingdom.

"I knew right when I saw her that she was the one...and so, with little time and little concience, I took what I wanted."

Another silence fell at his words, this one permeated with the feeling of dread, of knowing what came next and both not wanting it and craving it. Because we'd heard this part of the story before, just not this side. We knew where it was going, just not how it was going to be told. We wanted to believe it. We wanted it to be lies. Manny just looked like he wanted to sleep as Astrid slept, opening his eyes wearily and giving her a longing look, laced with a secret only they shared.

"I thought not about what harm would come to her. I was young in terms of my own years, naive, headstrong. I didn't know that certain measures had to be taken, and others left out. I didn't know that possibly, maybe...maybe this wasn't what she wanted. Or maybe it was what I had done to her that made her so resentful. I did not know so much...

"But those are excuses. You wish to know the truth, and I will give it to you unbiased. Yes, I took Astrid into the world of spirits and magic without her consent. I gave her power without knowing how strong she would become. I did not want to have to explain much to those whom I thought were not bothered by the situation, just wanting it all done.

"And so I took all that she had left. I took her brother's memory of her, wiped it clean from his mind, and assumed it would all just fall into place, just like that...oh, how foolish I was. How selfish, how cruel...and I did not deserve to be as surprised as I was when she finally rebelled against me. She had the right to, she had _every _right to. Possibly I was hurt, hurt that what I had created to give the world a clean slate had found only solace in my enemy.

"But I knew, even then, especially now, how incredibly wrong I was in it all. And I know what you are wondering now: Why, when I had done such wrong, did I not speak out for it? Why did I just leave the broken pieces on the floor?" He turned towards us, face in a bittersweet smile and brandeshing a large-sleeved arm outwards, indicating something that wasn't there.

"Why touch the broken pieces and break them further? I had done enough to her, truly I had, and felt that nothing more should be done lest I make another mistake, lest I injure her further. And that may be another excuse to sit and create others, to continue my quest, but even now I see no other alternative. Through it she has become stronger than anyone who walks that planet. Stronger than even myself.

"Through it she found an ally, though that ally was my enemy. Through it she met you all... But often I wonder, was the price for all of this one too high to pay? Possibly I will never know. I doubt even Astrid knows. And I apologize if any of this has destroyed your image of me, if you no longer view me as the man you once did. But understand that this is the truth of the matter, this all happened, and as well I have learned from my mistakes and created each of you in ways that were much more fair.

"You were each given the choice of seeing your memories, the knowledge of that choice spare Jack, to whom I do owe a sincere apology. You were each given a full life before you were chosen. You each were given free-will. I could never take that away..." He looked down at Astrid again, his face falling. "...But for Astrid there was no choice. Not in the beginning. And when she was finally allowed to make one, it condemned her.

"I can never forgive myself for what I have done to her, my first child, the one who became so eloquently strong and brave, the one with defiance lit in her eyes. And I would blame none of you if you never forgave me, either. But know that you are all here today so that I may attempt to ease some of the adversity towards me, so that I may take a step from the sidelines...

"But that is for later, when Astrid awakens. Now, I must ask, are there any other questions unrelated to your being here before we disperse to think, to rest, and to make ourselves at home?"

As he finished, I felt a certain numbness for a few moments. My fur bristled as I looked from Manny to Astrid, mind swimming. I knew all of it. I knew the information, I'd been told the story. But...it was true. All of it was true, and when I remembered how, years and years ago, I'd chased Astrid away with words like 'crazy' and 'nutjob', now knowing who she'd mistaken me for...

I took a step back and inhaled a deep breath, feeling a suffocating feeling fall onto my chest, a familiar one. One I'd felt around Jack eight months ago. The same mistake, only this time almost a bit worse. And that whole relax and think thing was sounding better and better by the second. I just...I couldn't be in here with her, knowing now what Manny had done, that he wasn't who I thought he had been, that he'd actually done all those things to her...

It cemented how shit Astrid's life had really been. And I couldn't handle that. Couldn't handle feeling empathy for someone who should have been an enemy.

"I'm gonna take up that offa' an' walk aroun' a spell..." I said, and then looked up to see Manny looking at me, something else in his eyes, something unreadable, something almost knowing, and it made me want to scratch at my fur, made me want to hide. I felt searched. And, not knowing whether to say 'thank you' or 'I'm sorry' or anything like that, I just offered a bow and turned, rushing from the room with the eyes of the others on me.

And when I exited the door, the feeling of being watched lingered. I paused, stopping dead in my tracks as the door creaked closed behind me, now almost halfway down the short hall. And the shadows felt alive. I panted, looking at the ground, not sure what to say or how to react. Conflicted. Horribly conflicted.

"Not so nice when the liar tells the truth, is it? Kind of...distorts reality." The voice was vindictive, judging, and angry. And I needed none of that now. I needed silence, I needed space, I needed clarity. And so, without a word, I took off, faster than any shadow could catch, not that any even tried. In fact, I wasn't sure even Pitch had stayed after he'd spoken, the uneasy feeling one generally got around him now gone.

And as I ran away from him and his words, I wondered if that was really what I was running from. After what I'd heard, after seeing the truth and pain in Manny's face, after hearing those words repeated...

Who could I run from if Astrid and Pitch weren't exactly the enemy?...And who could I run towards?

_~Pitch Black~_

Her hand was light and slightly chilled over mine, grasping it in a light and trusting way that generally followed a nightmare, something she'd been free of tonight. Instead, the smaller hand ran lines across the back of my hand as she shifted in sleep, little trails of sensation across my skin as I remembered a time, not too long ago, when I held this hand more firmly, fingers laced into my own in an almost intimate way.

What had happened that night I still was not sure of. The drug of her beauty and the music, of the gentle movements of dancing that had never seemed easier, of the something in my chest that I had yet to find a name for showing a new light, a new emotion within itself, it all had formed quite a dangerous cocktail, and now I did not know where to stand.

I'd prided both of us on exactly what connection we had while not being able to place it with a name. Now, though, I was not so lucky. No, because something felt different. Something had rippled the water, disturbed the peace. Something in that night had changed everything. I just didn't know how, or what.

"You eva' leave her in peace?" I heard the words mumbled in that terrible accent, and I didn't even grace him with a glance as I mused,

"I am the only one who has never left her. I intent to keep that record for as long as possible. Deserting a person would be more of your job, wouldn't it?" I did not know why, and I knew the repercussions later, but the anger and unjustness was stirring within me. It was always there, always a dull ember, but being in this place and seeing her like this, hearing him...

Something seemed to snap away all rational thought. Besides, this was getting ridiculous. Someone had to stop it before she got hurt any further, aftermath be damned.

"The bloody hell you goin' on about? I neva' left anyone!" He snapped, but I could already hear the hesitation in his tone, hear the low thrum of fear and dread. I could hear it, but I wanted more. I wanted him to know exactly what he'd done to her. Now was a time for truth.

I leaned back and let out a laugh, his fear spiking a bit as the shadows around me shifted, as the nightmare and butterfly in the corner who had found there way here sirred in their own sleep. I laughed because what he said was pure denial. It was _hopeless._ I looked over at him as I contained it a bit, fixing him with an icy stare, a venomous smile, seeing his eyes light in uneasiness and hostility, seeing his hand inch towards a boomerang of all weapons.

"Never left anyone, have you? Oh, how _brave!_ How _kind _of you! My my, you truly are as great and wonderful as they say, aren't you? The Easter Bunny can do no wrong! After all, he's _never left a child behind_." I spoke with venom, my voice loud and hostile and snapping, leaning forward a bit as Astrid shifted uncomfortably in sleep, rolling with her back to me and releasing my hand.

Aster paused a moment, glowering but for the first time unsure. Unsure if I were wrong or not. And that fear was delicious.

"I neva' have..." He said, voice trailing off, and all too fast the routine got old. All too fast I got fed up with it all. It wasn't even truly my problem, but all my existence, since I first laid eyes on her, her issues had become mine. I was surprised with how that burden didn't affect me.

I flew to my feet and stormed forward, Aster stumbling back in shock and fear, hand fumbling for a boomerang but my words stopping him short, my anger finally releasing in a wave of shadows flaring up the walls and words, words shouted, fists balled, leaning forward. Because he was denying it. He knew, deep inside, and he was denying it. Denying her. And she'd gone through well enough, thank you.

"You just don't want to _admit it, _Aster! You _know_! You know but you're too afraid, too scared to be associated with someone like Astrid, aren't you?! You are an idiot, but not to this extent!" I thundered, seeing his eyes widen in shock, seeing his fur bristle, looking like a rabbit about to flee. I spoke quickly before he could, the shadows blocking the door if I failed. I flung and arm in Astrid's direction and shouted, that twisting, infuriating pit of anger in my stomach tightening, needing to be released.

"Look at those marks on her arms!" I demanded, and his eyes flickered over for just a moment, "You've seen those before, haven't you? _Haven't you?!_ Yes! You have, because they're on your own body, your own markings identical to hers! Don't you dare tell me that's coincidence! Don't you dare tell me you don't notice her eyes, her mannerisms, don't you dare tell me that when you raced out to see her, to find her, to comfort her, that you didn't feel something inside of you, something from the past!

"You know, Aster! Stop denying it! Hasn't she been put through enough, hasn't she lost enough without you rubbing salt in her wound, without you looking her in the damned eye and denying everything?! You think only of yourself when you hurt her, you know that right? You couldn't stand it, could you? No, that shame! So you hide it, you hide it from yourself and everyone else, but at what cost?" My voice was loud enough now to wake the entire castle, my anger explosive enough to turn the shadows around us churning faster, flailing, the nightmare whinnying in anger and disturbance.

And I should have stopped, I really should have. This wasn't my tale to tell...but if I didn't do it, no one else would. And I was tired of seeing her hurt. I never again wanted to have to hold her in my arms as her pain tore through me. Never again wanted to see such a strong force cry. Never wanted my brick wall to crumble again. Maybe it was because she was too much like me. Maybe it had to do with whatever had happened that night.

Aster looked distressed, fur bristling faster, panting almost in panic, eyes never leaving Astrid, something swimming behind his eyes. I felt the fear, felt it spiking, heard the vibration in my mind. Fear of me being right. Fear of it. Fear of everything, poignant and with a familiar ring, like a genetic code in a family line. And I felt desperate, and I felt terrible, and I felt above all else, above every piece of guilt and hate, _anger._

It was time to end the act.

"I don'...I can't understand..."He said, and I let out a loud noise of frustration, loud enough to shock Aster into looking at me again. All my natural anger at him. All the anger from here, from now...

And the words came before I could stop them.

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Aster?! Fine! _You are the brother!__"_

Silence. Heavy. Suffocating silence. Nothing moved. The shadows stilled. The air just stopped. All there was was the shattering of a reality, of a world. And two green eyes showing everything, raw and uncut. Wide, aching, painful. A chest falling. His face showing a crumbling resistance, and a growing agony.

Eyes that slowly slipped from me to her, and then widened more. The sound of a heart breaking.

"You guys wanna shut the fuck up, huh? I'm trying to get some god-damned sleep over here." Her words were mumbled, slurred in sleep as I glanced back at her, suddenly unsure, suddenly realizing what I'd done, what I'd changed. Suddenly realizing that I may have just made everything worse.

She stretched until she looked up at us and paused, brow furrowing in confusion. And agreeably, we must have looked quite a sight for the world that we just shattered. We must have looked a mess.

"...Did I miss something?"


	15. Author's Note

Hey everyone, I'm suuuuuuper sorry that I forgot to tell you all that this chapter was going to be later than normal, and that this has to bean Author's note. *ducks from things thrown at her*. But I'm currently at the AFR and will try to get this chapter put no later than Monday. Sorry and thank you!


	16. Strangers and Broken Floor Tiles

_-Again, sorry this one is coming out later than usual! I hope you all like it and, as always, enjoy.-_

_~Astrid~_

Pitch had the look of a man who had just done possibly the worst possible thing a man could do, times about seven. To be honest, it almost made me laugh, but maybe that was because I didn't know exactly what it was he had done yet. In fact, by how absolutely horrified and worried his face looked, maybe I didn't want to know...and what was that look Aster was giving me?...Wait, Aster, Pitch...Hal?

I sat straight up and instantly looked around, heart pounding as the memory suddenly slammed into me, having for a moment thought I was back at the Pole, that maybe I'd had a nightmare or something and that was why Pitch was there, that I was back in my normal bed in my not-so-normal surroundings. But this wasn't normal. This wasn't even the familiar not-so-normal. This sure as hell wasn't Santoff Claussen.

I didn't even need to look long at the white and the floor to know why Pitch looked that way. To know why something inside of me felt off, felt anxious and uncomftorble. I knew in almost an instant, and when it hit me harder than the memory of Hal, of his words, of the light, I knew why Pitch looked afraid. Knew why it all felt so wrong.

_Fucking pissed _doesn't even begin to describe my feelings.

I tensed up and felt the rage grow inside of me, coiling in my gut and heating my veins, eyes narrowing as I clenched my jaw, looking down and forcefully throwing the sheets off of me, disgusted by just touching something from this place. A memory played out, one from long ago, in small little flashes behind my mind's eye. A white room. A young, ancient man. Smoke. Shadows. Anger. Betrayal. Pain.

And now I was back.

"...Now dear, don't be too upset-"

"PITCH FUCKING BLACK!"I thundered, causing both grown-men to jump, spinning and getting to my feet shakily, glaring so hard at Pitch that even the Nightmare King himself seemed to shrink back a bit, eyes wide and hands up, the nightmare and butterfly in the corner of the room both stilling and taking one step backwards. I didn't even care, couldn't even see past Pitch and this damned room, see past my utter fury at being back in the first damn place!

My skin crawled, eyes darting around the room, the distinct feeling of the place radiating from the walls. Unease. Unwelcome. Unwanted memories. All of it seeming to vibrate from the walls and into my skin, making me want to scratch, to leave, to hide, to do anything but stay here another freaking second.

"Astrid, I don't want to be here either. Honestly, you think this was my idea?" Pitch asked in a cautious, wary tone, one that did nothing but make my mindless anger only that much worse. I didn't speak, couldn't even find words through my pure anger, instead just turning to Aster who had this weird, soul-searchy kinda look in his eyes, and snapped him back into the present by shouting,

"Was this your idea?!" He jumped and quickly shook his head, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut, both men still looking suspiciously guilty. I rose up my hand, not to lash out or anything, just because that seemed like an appropriate thing to do in my current state of mind. I took in a deep breath and paused, not quite sure what to say, just knowing that I wanted out. I didn't know how, why, or when we ended up here, of all places. I just knew that, like always, I wanted OUT.

"I am afraid that I was the one who thought to bring you all here, Astrid."

And suddenly, the entire froze. I swear I could have heard Pitch mutter '_shit_' if I hadn't been so deafened by the blood rushing from my head, by the tremble of fury that ran up my stomach, the almost-sickening, tight feeling in my gut. I didn't look at him. Couldn't. I knew where he was. Knew he'd just teleported himself in here like he had every fucking right in the world. He did, didn't he? He'd listened. He always listened. Because he wanted to know, wanted to know because everything I said he tried to manipulate into a plan, a plan like this, whatever purpose I was here for.

The man who ruined my life, and he was _standing right there._ I could feel it, the intensity of it, the urge to turn on him and blast him into oblivion, to grab his face and force him to see it, to feel it, all of it, everything I'd gone through for the past uncountable centuries...

"We'll leave you two alone." Pitch said slowly and still cautiously, taking side-steps away from me and towards the door. Aster paused, looking from me with that odd look to where I assumed 'he' stood, to Pitch.

"B-but, wha' abou-"

"Get over here you overstuffed housepet, unless you fancy _mutilation _today." Pitch muttered quietly, and I didn't see with my eyes fixed on the wall behind them, but I caught a bit of a glimpse of Aster shivering and then quickly following Pitch to the door, followed quickly by the nightmare and butterfly, the door being shut quietly.

The lock clicked.

And I unleashed hell.

A torrent of smoke exploded from the wall to my right and slammed hard into the opposite wall, me spinning sharply on my heel to see him dodge out of the way with an aged grace just in time. But if he thought he was going to get just one, after everything he did, after I let it BUILD UP, the oh boy, HE was getting a surprise tonight!

Without missing a beat I brought both hands up and slammed them down onto the ground, aimed at where he stood, the torrent changing directions and slamming into the floor as he jumped a bit less-gracefully out of the way, my teeth gritted as anger, pure and white-hot, slammed through my veins like heroine. Adrenaline kept any and all rational thought from my brain, because we took a small, second-long pause.

And I saw him. I saw his face, the same face, not a day aged. I saw the same eyes. Saw the same selfishness. Manipulation. Greed. Fear. Cowardliness. I saw it all, and it took every wound I had and ripped the scab off, rubbed them back to raw, and suddenly it wasn't just anger that drove me. Hell, I didn't even know why I was here, didn't even really care of that matter. I was here. And he was here. And I suddenly remembered _everything_ as if it were happening all over again.

And I fucking _hurt._

I made a noise of fury as I threw my left arm across my body and finally clipped his hip with the shadows, seeing him still manage to leap with his other leg across the floor, holding out both hands as a beam of pure silver cut through half the smoke, the other half coiling back around me to prepare for wave two.

"Astrid, listen-!"

"Listen to this!" I snapped harshly, and threw both of my arms suddenly forward and stick-straight, all the smoke funneling into where he stood. This time it was too fast, and I saw part of his robe rip right off halfway up his sleeve, him throwing himself against the wall and, out of defense, threw a palm out in front of him and damn-near bowled me over with the blinding ray of silver, a moonbeam shooting from his wrist and making me spin sideways to avoid it.

And now he was attacking me. Good, gave me some leverage. And some justification.

As if I needed anymore to rip his damn head off. I didn't care anymore. About anything. He was here, and I was keeping a promise to myself that I'd made many years back.

_~Pitch Black~_

"Should...should we do something?" Tooth asked timidly, just as a massive crash sounded out, followed by the sound of cracking marble and shattering glass and floor tiles. Honestly, it sounded like a bloody war-zone in there, and I couldn't tell who was winning. Of course, I didn't honestly need to tell. Astrid was stronger than that man in every way, shape, and form. The other Guardians seemed perturbed by this sudden chaos, catching glances of them as I leaned against the wall and examined my nails boredly.

Honestly, I wasn't particularly worried.

There was another massive crash, the sound of something on the ceiling falling and smashing on the floor as the hallway, and possibly the entire moon itself, shook. I shrugged and deadpanned,

"I think it's going quite well."

_~Astrid~_

Moonbeams and smoke filled the room, but I didn't care. I couldn't even focus on anything other than my anger and venting it, wanting to hit him hard with every bit of tragedy I'd had to collect, I'd had to see, I'd had to experiance through either my own life or others'. I wanted him to feel it and understand and I wanted him to _fall_.

And it wasn't until, as I shot forth another massive wave of twirrling and convulsing smoke, a massive and sudden burst of moonlight emploded from within the center of the room that I even stopped. I shouted out and slammed my back into the wall behind me, holding up my arms at the sheer brightness of it, the silver making my skin prickle and itch, making me want to curl up and hide, too bright, chasing away the smoke in an instant of fury and sudden silence.

It blinked once, twice, and then completely went out, leaving only a now-empty, almost silent room. Panting, sighing, the cracking of newly-broken tiles and walls. One piece of the ceiling lay smashed to pieces on the floor next to the now-disheveled bed that had a severe dent in the headboard. The room was cracked and dust was settling between us, and though the chaos looked devistating, I felt like it wasn't enough. I still felt that vibration of anger in my veins, felt my mucles tensing though it was all diluted a bit, tired and shivering, panting, dried blood caked on my knees and shins still.

But as it still ran through my veins, I didn't do anything more. I just leaned against the wall behind me, glaring, hatred hot and angry in my heart, looking at the man before me who was responsible for all of this. Every little bit of it. And he stood there in his now-tattered robe, areas covered in a brighter white from the ripped up ceiling and walls, sleeve and hem torn, his hair slightly out-of-place in a few places.

Face tired, eyes narrowed, mouth in a frown. He looked angry, but I couldn't tell if it were at me or not. Couldn't tell if there was dissapointment in his features. He just looked...tired. And he looked at me as if seeing something he'd rather forget, as if reliving some great loss or failure, because wasn't that what I was to him? He lost a pawn. He failed. I failed to conform to my destiny. I chose my own future.

His eyes flickered over me, and something more painful passed through his eyes, but I couldn't quite place it. All I saw was our eyes connecting for the first time in centuries. Seeing each other exactly the same, just years and years later. Nothing had changed.

"...Astrid, I am not going to try and convince you to trust me. But merely hear my words, and then you may pass judgement on my decision." He said, but without the air of confidence I remembered. Just...still tired. So tired. And I didn't care. In fact, I laughed. Harshly.

"Decision?" I spat, pushing myself forward from the wall, seeing his eyes crinkle a bit in pain, a pain that send a feeling of victory through me. I pushed on, smiling icily at him and giving short, sarcastic little laughs. "Which decision, MiM? Hm? The one where you took my life, my family, and any chance of happiness away from me? The one where you made me a pawn? How about the one to ignore the abuse I suffered from your 'children'? Or how about never giving me any answers or leway like, let's see...ever?

"Or wait! Did you mean this one? The one where you let some homicidal NUTCASE kidnap me and then make your grand save, making you look like the fucking hero, huh? Thinking that after all these years I couldn't _possibly _still be angry, could I? You mean _that _decision?" At this point I was shoving a finger into his chest, and he wasn't even moving. Just looking down at me with wounded eyes, as if that shit could even affect me anymore. As if I had room for sympathy left.

I brought my hand back down by my side and spat,

"I passed judgement on you a hell of a long time ago. Now I'm gonna leave, and you're gonna stay far away from me, because if you get anywhere near me within the next hour I'm gonna rip your throat out. When I've calmed down a bit, you're going to send me back to Earth with the others." He paused, and quirked one eyebrow.

"The others?" He asked, and for some reason this set me off. I knew I had to leave, knew I reeeeally wanted to do this guy in, but also that the others may have some answers they needed first. Answers, then I kill him. That seemed fair.

I shoved past him without a word and flung the door open, seeing all the Guardians jump as Pitch just stood there silently. He'd find me in a few minutes, help the cooling process. But even he knew that right now I just needed to be alone, just needed myself and an empty, silent space. I needed to get away, even if I couldn't leave this castle.

I needed...something. I didn't know what. Sleep. Venting. Crying. Hot Chocolate. All of the above, in that order maybe. I wondered if you could make hot chocolate on the moon? I'd have to ask North...

But first, the library. Yeah, yeah that was a good idea...

_~Pitch_ _Black~_

Nicholas huffed tiredly and scratched the back of his head, the others looking rather sad at the inevitable fallout that just took place. Honestly it was so expected that I took it in a bit of a stride, though the look of the room within when Jack curiously nudged it open was...a tad overly-dramatic on Astrid's part. Dust was still settling on the ground, the walls and floor marred with deep ridges, dents, and vein-like cracks. Wisps of smoke still clung to the walls in small places, and white, scar-like marks dotted the ceiling and corners of the room from where moonbeams had tried in vain to protect MiM from what was truly hurting him.

Said man turned slightly, looking over his shoulder with his eyes cast down at the ground. I could see it though he did not look directly at me, I could see it in his eyes, in his suddenly-aged face, in the hopelessness that he wore like a mask. I could see the humiliation. Humiliation of having his A-team, his star pupils, his true children, see him lowered and humbled like this. And it made me smirk a bit.

No one spoke to him this way. No one treated the Man in the Moon this way. No one leveled him like this. No one stood above him.

No one but Astrid.

"I suppose you have something to say about this?" MiM asked tiredly, directed at me. I gave the man a bored glance and then shrugged, waving a hand lazily at him as I turned.

"I said everything the day she left... I _am _curious, though, how you expected to get her back?" I paused, a frown on my face as Astrid's fears began to thrum back into my mind, fears that she hadn't had since I'd last seen her in this foul place. And I thought about how it shouldn't be this way. Not for her, at least. It shouldn't have to be this hard to forget. And I gave an empty laugh.

"As if you ever had her in the first place."

He offered no reply, and I didn't elaborate any further. We both understood, and, despite myself, I felt that possibly the Guardians now did as well. Afterall, they knew more about her than anyone had ever been allowed previously...anyone other than myself. I knew too much about her, some might say. Too much to not get attatched. Too much to be able to deny everything. Anything.

Too much to not know when she needed me. Such as now, as her fears led me through hall after hall, voices and old men left behind me, in search of the one girl who could understand me. The only other being who I, too, could understand. And if I thought about it hard enough, some things may have made much more sense. They would have seemed less sudden. Less surprising. But I didn't think too hard about things like that, preferred to remain in safe territory until it was strictly necissairy...or it was too late to think at all.

_~Astrid~_

I was flipping through a massive, black-bound book when Pitch walked into the room, the heavy white doors shutting surprisingly smoothly and silently. I held it above my head as I sat on a table near the center of the good-sized library, two short staircases on either side of me that led to a small platform which held more white-shelved books, the stacks lined up in some weird, maze-like pattern, constellations on the ceiling like in the room I'd woken up in.

"Astrid reading? I'm honestly a bit less irritated that we've come here now." He mused sarcastically, me scoffing and rolling my eyes, slamming shut the book and hopping off the table. I tossed it behind me, momentarily taking in the familiar feeling of protection and ease that accompanied Pitch wherever he went. I'd been in here for about five minutes, but even that had managed to take more of the edge off my temper tantrum.

Not to say I was alright in any way. I wasn't. Not by a long shot. But I was used to being miserable and playing it off as nothing, even if it meant tricking myself in to thinking I was okay.

"Edgar Allen Poe," I said, nodding my head backwards at the book and getting a playful grin, "Remember that guy? Man, we gave him _hell_ back in the old days!" Pitch got a fond kind of smirk on his face, eyebrows raising a bit and eyes looking loftily behind me.

"Ah yes, lovely Edgar. He and I had quite the wonderous conversations, didn't we? Hmm, you don't find minds quite like his nowdays, do you?" He asked, and I shook my head, crossing my arms and walking over to an angled stack of books, scuffing my foot boredly on the floor.

"So, what were you and Aster talking about?"

Oh yeah, if Pitch thought I'd over looked that little tidbit, he was in for a hell of a surprise.

I could literally feel him tense up behind me, the creaking of the book's spine stopping short and a sharp, nervous intake of breath. I slid my eyes sideways, not able to see him but still able to see half of the pale-silver table that the book was laid upon, other novels I'd taken from the shelves thrown haphazardly across the floor and chairs. I remembered the look Pitch had had when I'd woken up, remembered the look Aster had.

And somehow, someway, part of me knew what they'd been talking about. I only asked Pitch because I didn't want that. Because everything was going wrong. Because none of this was _fair_... Because I knew that look in Aster's eyes. Shock. Revulsion. Denial. A horrible, terrible, world-shattering knowing. And it was ridiculous to say that I knew, but my life was pretty ridiculous. This was nothing new.

Just like I knew the look on Pitch's face, just like I knew his mild fear, he knew he didn't need to say anything. He knew I knew. He also knew how deep of shit he was in. And, deep down, we both knew that I wasn't angry with him.

Had I really expected to be near Aster and have nothing happen? Had I expected this to go so smoothly, when my life had never let anything just come to me without struggle, without pain? When everything I'd ever had had been shattered and broken and taken from me?...Maybe I had. Maybe I'd hoped for it, maybe I'd wished for it, and maybe I'd even convinced myself of it a bit...but no. No, I didn't expect it. It just came at a time when I needed it the least.

"I'm never leaving you two alone again." Was all I said before turning and walking to the door. Pitch said nothing, I said nothing. We didn't need to. That was our thing, wasn't it? We didn't need to talk...we just kinda _knew._ He knew where I was going. I knew he was right here if things got as bad as I expected them to go.

That was why I walked out and found it almost a bit easier to maneuver the halls, having taken the heels off in the library and thrown them under the table. Now, my footsteps didn't make a sound, and the cold white floor that was made of something I couldn't name almost emitted cold, a cold I didn't feel. Because I was walking, I was turning, I was going through doors. Because this wasn't something I was going to leave until the last minute. Because this was the one thing in this world I couldn't run from. The one thing I couldn't ignore.

Because there were words that had to be said that had waited far too long to come out. And somehow I knew where he was, like a ghost of a connection still lingering onto something that would never come back. Never, because this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Never, because that was for the best. For both of us.

I made it to the end of the shortest hallway I'd walked through, and there were words scrawled on the door that I almost forgot how to read, a language I hadn't used since before I knew that all this shit was going to happen. I paused a moment, something inside of me tight, my nerves buzzing in my veins, and my mouth in a frown. I didn't know if this was going to be terrible. I just knew it wasn't going to be good. It wasn't going to be comftorble. This wasn't some fairytale. This wasn't a happy ending.

We wouldn't greet each other like long-lost siblings. There would be an apology or two, but nothing substantial. Nothing accepted or forgiven for the most part, nothing that hadn't already been forgiven. There would be no tears. We wouldn't hug. We wouldn't talk about the past and how we both knew it all along. There would be no happy reunion. There would be measured words, empty reassurances, and then we would both see just how broken this whole thing really was. And always would be.

The words spelled out 'Viewing Room'. I remembered this place.

I opened the door and silently walked in, letting it shut itself in that eerily silent way that all the doors shut around here. I walked into a room empty spare a balcony before a glass, concave, completely see-through half-bubble, giving the illusion of looking out into space with no filter, stars and galaxies floating past us and glancing in as we slowly rotated, silver powder against a black background.

And Aster. He sat on his haunches, looking through the bars of the balcony, fur plated and shoulders sagged just the slightest bit, ears against the back of his head. I paused a moment, something coiling in my chest, something very much like pain and the realization of something horrible, before shaking it off and walking forward.

He didn't even flinch as I showed up beside him, resting my arms on the balcony and leaning foward, looking out and trying to count the stars in the silence. I got to seventy-eight before I spoke next, realizing I'd counted the same star twice.

"You weren't supposed to find out that way." My voice sounded not quite apologetic, but explanitory. As if my plan had taken a forseen detour. He shifted a bit, and when he spoke his voice sounded heavier, gravellier, whistful.

"How then?...No, no wait. Tha' don't matter, does it?" He asked, and I shook my head, saying quickly and hard,

"No. It does matter. It was _everything_..."I paused, taking in a deep breath before leaning more into the railing. "...Being told and remembering are two different things." He paused, and this time his voice was softer, in a tone where even he knew he was wrong.

"I mean, yer...now tha' I know...yer still-"

"Don't say it." I interrupted him, hands clenching into fists and closing my eyes, letting that breath out and shaking my head. "Don't say it, if it doesn't mean anything to you. That's the difference. You were _told_, you don't remember. To you, I'm still some kid with issues that can't be around you for more than a few minutes without freaking out or fucking everything up or something. I'm not..._that_...not anymore. Probably not ever again."

"I could...I could ask Tooth ta give me my memories...ta..." He trailed off, because he knew that was wrong, too. Teeth memories were unpredictable. He could remember making a boomerang, or hunting, or our parent's death if he was lucky. There was no guarentee he would remember me, and even if he did, he wouldn't remember all of it. It would be like an unfinished, splotchy story that he was trying to make sense of.

"It'll never be the same. I knew that when I realized you didn't remember me the first time. You didnt' have the same look in you eyes that you used to, and you..." I stopped, remembering to breathe, everything seeming awkward, forced, uncomftorble. And that wasn't what hurt the most. The struggle to even hold a conversation, to speak to the other, that was something I had with everyone. No, it wasn't the struggle. It was remembering how easy it used to be.

"...Whatever." I breathed out, shaking my head, "We both know what happened then was shit. So let's just forget about it, no harm no foul. You didn't know, I didn't know. Water under the bridge."

"Ye can't honestly expect me ta go on like nothin' happened, sheila. Not afta' what we've both done, not afta I blatantly ignored all tha signs..."

"Aster-"

"No, just hush up fer a bloody second." He said, but it wasn't harsh. It was almost tired, and I opened my eyes to look down at him. He looked out into space, frowning, eyes narrowed and looking tired, almost darker than usual, paws splayed out as his elbows rested on his thighs, as if he were going to look down at them at any second. He was silent as he looked for words, and I was silent as I let him find them.

"...Part a me felt this...pull. As if ye actually did mean somethin' ta me, ya know? Everytime ye got in trouble, or ya looked like the weight of the world was on yer shoulders, I felt like...I don' know, chasing away all the bad things? But I neva' did, because I didn't know jack 'bout why I was feeling that in the first place. I knew I was supposed to hate you, and that ya were this bloody firecracker of emotions that could go off at any second...

"But I knew. Somewhere inside of me, an' it wasn' clear, but I knew. I felt this broken connection, an' I thought 'bout what ya said every day afta' ya showed back up again...thought 'bout what ya said afta' that rucus with Sophie and everythin'...

"An' those markings on yer arms...an' yer eyes..." He stopped, and I saw this broken look in his eyes, saw him begin to breath harder, looking down finally into his paws, and I felt the need to say something to break that, to get him off the fact that he denied it all even though it hurt, even though he promised me something once and didn't follow through. Even though he hurt me, I hurt him a little bit, too.

"My hair was blue before. Like your fur. So was yours, before you became all...ya know...rabbity." I said suddenly, and he paused, looking up at me for a moment with an unreadable expression. And then it was silent again, and we were just looking at each other, and we knew it was wrong. It was all so wrong. And it wasn't supposed to be this way, it never was. In the beginning, it was supposed to be us against the world.

Now it almost seemed the opposite, and we'd fallen apart. He didn't remember, but he knew. He would think about all he'd done wrong and hate himself. I would remember perfectly, remember all the good times and remember how there weren't any left. We'd try. We'd fail. And maybe it wouldn't have been so different if he had remembered.

He'd just realize he lied instead of me keeping that secret to myself.

We looked at each other, and we knew. This wasn't how things were supposed to play out. Wasn't how they were supposed to end. And though it wasn't the end yet, we both knew something like that was coming up fast, and the chances of anything changing in time for it were slim. They weren't supposed to be this way. But they were.

And as we looked at each other, we realized something else. Despite everything, despite the past, despite connections, we realized something.

We were looking at strangers.


	17. Game Plans

_~Astrid~_

"...I don't wanna."

"You have to."

"Technically speaking, I don't."

"Technically speaking, you're acting like a child."

"I _AM _A CHILD!"

"Oh yes, you're not ancient when it's conveniant. Don't you want more information on why exactly you're the target of a homicidal maniac."

"I didn't when it was you, did I? I kinda just took that one in stride."

"...You want to go back to Earth?"

"..."

"..."

"...I hate you."

"I hate you, too. Now get off the floor, it looks dazzling."

I scoffed as I begrudgingly shoved myself up off the floor, sliding up the wall beside a giant set of double doors with a cresant moon sharing their space.

"Did you just seriously say 'dazzling'? And you wonder why I call you sassy..."I muttered, hands shoved into the front pockets of my hoodie as Pitch shrugged and seemed to take that in stride, have been intensely relieved when I didn't punch his spine out after what he'd done with Aster. He was on surprisingly good behavior, spare actually forceing me to go to this 'meeting' that MiM thought he could just call and we'd all come running...

Well, okay, the Guardians _did _go running to him, but I sure as hell wasn't going without a fight!...Which was why I sulked on the floor for a good ten minutes until Pitch maneuvered me into going. Honestly, despite the fact I'd probably slept a few good hours, I really just wanted to go back to sleep. But not just sleep...I wanted to go to sleep in my room in Santoff Claussen. I wanted to be back in the workshop where everything felt good and warm and smelled like cinnamon and snow, wanted to go back to exploring the hallways and talking to Jack...

I didn't want to be here. Which, I guess, was the reason I walked in front of Pitch as I took in a big-girl breath and shoved open the massive doors with surprisingly little strength. I wanted to go back. MiM was the only one who could do that.

"Ah! Here zey are! Little late to party, eh?" North asked slyly, and I gave him a confused look, wondering if the lack of oxygen up here was affecting his brain...moreso than usual. I shook myself and looked around the pure-white room, this time with slight silver scars along the walls in the form of constellations and moon transitions, along with the names of the galaxies and stars scrawled in the language I used before 'this' happened. The ceiling was arched into a dome, pure glass and revealing the almost intimdating expanse of space above us, littered with stars, slowly and constantly shifting.

I looked back down at the table as I followed Jack's frantic waving, seeing it long and made of marble, taking up most of the room with one giant emblem of the moon in the center. MiM took the whole 'moon' thing a bit far. The Guardians sat around it, with MiM at one head and North at the other, many seats between each person except for Jack and me, who sat side-by-side with Tooth a chair away and Pitch across from me, Sandy a good distance away from him in a sand-made boosterseat. Aster sat closer to MiM and farthest from Pitch, looking bored and avoiding eye-contact somewhat, only offering a nod in greeting and an awkward smile. I just nodded.

"Alright, I'm here. Make it worth it." I muttered, leaning back as Jack settled in next to me, looking over at MiM, who seemed to have thought better of the 'single Astrid out' approach and instead turned his focus to the other Guardians for as long as possible, hands splayed out palm-up in front of him, long fingers offering an open welcome, the others relaxing while I scoffed silently. My eyes bore into him and I frowned.

Yeah, he was the almighty 'Man In the Moon', but the Guardians knew what he'd done now, from both sides. And I noticed their gazes weren't as awe-struck as they used to be, North's smile even wavering, not reaching his eyes. And maybe it was bad to say I felt a bit victorious in that, to have this group of people only that much closer to me. He thought he could, after all I'd been through with them, still win their favor? This speech really must be something, then.

"I have called you all here today to discuss and issue I have monitored carefully over the past hundred-or-so years. The issue of Hal, and his deteriorating mental status-"

"How lovely of you to intervene at the last possible second." I heard Pitch mutter under his breath, and I stifled a chuckle as MiM continued, as if he hadn't heard a thing and nothing was wrong.

"-over his situation. Now you must understand first, Hal was never quite too stable to begin with. He was one of the spirits created at a sort of testing period in time, his surface-level traits taken at face value. A boy who loved nothing more than to play tricks and make those around him laugh? I saw no better candidate than Hal Overture Wean for the position of the Spirit of Tricks. I needed someone to spread life and laughter to open people's hearts to joy and love and hope."

"Bet you let _his _family remember him." I muttered, and felt a sharp kick to my shin. I looked up and gave Pitch a 'you started it' look, but he only leveled me with an eye-roll and a hushing glare, MiM continuing unperturbed.

"Hal told Astrid all of this, but I am unsure of wether all of you overheard before I intervened-"

"Kidnapped."

"-All of you in order to prevent further injury." MiM continued to speak as he fell into explaining what I already knew, what Hal had told me in his phsycotic rant. Honestly, I couldn't listen to this man speak for too long, his tone too formal and his words too precise, to a point where his speech began to sound wrong, off almost, as if he were trying too hard. Then again, he did that a lot.

My mind wandered as he ambled on, slouching in my chair and placing a foot on the edge of the table, pushing backwards a bit. I looked at the faces of the Guardians as the listened, at the ceiling above me, and began to ponder exactly what it was that I'd gotten myself into. It all seemed suddenly so real when Hal had said those final words to me, but now it seemed...almost like a dream. Like this was all happening and I was just going along with it.

But I'd been doing that since the beginning hadn't I? I'd just gone along with Jack's request. I'd just gone along with staying in the Workshop. I'd just gone along with fighting those creatures, helping them catch one, going to that party, confessing basically my entire past to them, Aster finding out my secret, and then this...had I really just gone along with it? It sure seemed that way, but in reality I realized that no, no I had not. Not without one hell of a fight did I do any of those things. I fought tooth-and-nail, I felt the very fabric of my life being ripped and re-stitched, I felt the change and the fear, I cried and screamed and got pissed, I ran away and denied more than anything...

So why was I still here? Why hadn't any of that worked? Where was my defiance against anything I didn't want my life to involve go? I sure as hell hadn't lost my inner fight, but at the same time...at the same time I realized something. I was sitting at this table, and I felt uncomftorble. Not just because MiM was sitting there and I wasn't ripping his head off. Not because of where I was. Not even because of Hal.

I was uncomftorble because we weren't close enough. The chairs were spread out, and we weren't sitting shoulder-to-shoulder like we always did. I had too much personal space.

Shit. What happend to me in four days that I felt like I had TOO MUCH personal space?...Well, to be honest, after what I'd gone through in those four days, there was no way that I was going to come out the same. And that should have bothered me more than it did.

"A'ight, I get it, the boy's mind is crook. He wants Astrid fer some deranged reason or whateva'. Fine, I imagine this ain't the first time a homicidal loon's tried ta get attatched ta her." Aster suddenly broke me from my thoughts, and I scoffed.

"Tell me about it." I muttered, only to get kicked by Pitch again. Except this time he wasn't aiming for my leg. He was aiming for the chair I was teetering backwards in. With a yelp I felt the chair slip from under me, and I called out as I tumbled backwards onto the floor, landing on my butt and cursing. "Pitch, I swear someday I'm gonna-"

"_But_,"Aster said irritatedly, and I glared up at him, pointing angrily to Pitch and only earning an eye-roll. I swear if one more person fucking 'eye-roll's me I'm going to..do...something! I huffed in frustration as Aster continued, standing and smacking the back of Jack's head as he snickered, pulling my chair back up and spinning in around, sitting in it backwards and leaning on the back as I listened,

"She can't die, not like the rest o' us. She neva' died ta begin with, so ain't she immortal? As in, more immortal than _us_?" MiM nodded and said simply,

"Yes, that is correct. So long as she is under my protection, she is untouchable. Where it is day somewhere, it is night somewhere else, and she is always within my protection." I was about to scoff, but Pitch's eyes flickered over to me in a warning manner, telling me that now was definitly not the time. I just huffed and sat back, listening to them talk about me as if I weren't there.

"So how's Hal plannin' on kill 'er?!" Aster exclaimed, and MiM let out a long sigh, closing his eyes as if bracing himself for something, then opening them and looking very, very tired, as if he hadn't slept for as long as I hadn't seen him. He paused, looking each Guardian in the eye, and then Pitch, and then a quick glance over to me before returning his gaze to North, whom he'd spoken to the most during this seemingly-pointless meeting.

"...I am not sure at this time what he plans to do-"

"Oooof course." I said, glaring over at the wall and leaning back, pouting and acting aggreably like a child, but damnit I think I deserved it! "Listen, if this isn't going to have any point other than to agree that Hal's a wack job, he has an army of creepy creatures, and he's trying to kill me, then can I go back to Earth now? Seriously, he's some scrawny crack-pot, I think I can take him."

"But that is what he wants." I stopped, and then looked slowly over, seeing that MiM was finally looking me directly in the eye, face serious and almost a bit concerned, hands turning palm-down on the table, as if looking at me took exertion. I furrowed my brow and frowned, suspicion running through me as I asked,

"Excuse me?"

"It is what Hal wants. He would not threaten death if he had no way to do it. Hal may be unstable, but that does not mean he is not tricky, cunning. He, of all people, could find a loophole in this clause, and if he had then he is waiting to get you alone. He has seen how fast the Guardians can find you, had known for some time now I am sure. He will wait until he can get you, and act when we are defenseless. You must not leave our sight under any circumstances, and must acompany one of us at all times.

"If he encounters you, at least someone will be there to help protect you, or get you to me if you do end up injured. It can work in a matter of a group effort or turns, and if we chose the prior-"

"Stop!" I shouted, and he seemed taken aback, leaning backwards with wide eyes, mouth slightly open as if he honestly hadn't expected this. I shook my head, running a hand anxiously through my hair and snapping, something uncomftorble coiling in my chest, "What's with all this 'we' shit, huh? You think I want _your _help? Huh? And if you think I need someone to protect me, then let me remind you that I spent CENTURIES fending for myself with only Pitch by my side, and I think I did pretty damn well for myself!"

"Did you Astrid? Did you really?" He asked, and I paused for a second, shocked. I couldn't do anything, couldn't speak, just wondered if he'd actually asked that. Finally, when I recovered, I leaned forward and snapped hostily,

"Well I sure as fuck aren't dead, so yeah, I think so!" MiM's eyes grew sad, far-away, looking at me as if he'd just heard something heartbreaking, something he was seeing that brought back some kind of bad memory.

"Outside you are fine, but you are so cold inside, Astrid." He said quietly and I scoffed, glaring at him and hands tightening on the edge of the table, jaw tight as I was about to spit out another insult, as I was about to remind him that all of this, all of what he just said, was his fault!

"We will go with MiM's idea and monitor Astrid while we try to find a way to defeat Hal. It should take no more than a few days if I delve a bit into his nightmares, something I've been quite curious of anyway."

I turned my head quickly to Pitch, hearing his voice but not quite believing it, giving him an incredulous look as he shrugged at me.

"It's the only way to ensure you're safe. Dear, you don't exactly turn trouble down on your own, let alone with others. Honestly, I'm shocked this kind of thing hasn't happened sooner. And it isn't as if you don't like any of us, so don't you go giving me any of that, either. And _no_, MiM will not be in the cycle of people protecting you, he will be far too busy deducing Hal's plan." The way Pitch spoke, firing down all of my questions one-by-one, and the last sentence shot directly at MiM in a hostile way, made me sit back and grit my teeth.

"I'm not staying here." I muttered, just to make sure I had at least a little bit of say in this. I hated that Pitch could make this plan make sense. Hated that he could make me agree to do pretty much anything. Hated MiM. Hated Pitch. Pretty much hated everything at this point. Pitch raised an eyebrow at me and mused simply,

"Oh heaven's no. I'm not staying in this hell for one more bloody second. And these buffoons have jobs to do." He waved a hand at the Guardians, who had all just sat there and listened basically, having pretty much the least say in all of this. Tooth looked downright giddy at the idea of having me all to herself, a thought I shivered at. Sandy was sitting quietly and sleepily, nodding slowly, as if he weren't sure if he were actually agreeing with Pitch or not. North merely looked on seriously, all of that sparkle in his eye now calculating, a bit unnerving.

Jack leaned over to me as Pitch and MiM talked about something I honestly did not care about, asking quietly,

"You really think Hal can kill you?" I looked over at the boy, pausing a moment and taking in the concern in his eyes. Concern for me. Concern for wether I lived or died. Something I'd never actually seen before... I smiled and nudged him with my elbow.

"Don't worry, Frostbite. I'll be okay. You owe me another snowball fight anyway, so I can't die on you, that'd just be rude." I joked, and his easy smile came to his face, even chuckling a bit. Chuckling. Because that's the only way we could deal with this situation. The only way he could. North's calculating, Tooth's giddiness, Sandy's sleepiness, Aster's questioning, Pitch's authority, my sarcasm.

We were all trying to deal with this in a way that eased the impact of the reality of it all. Right now, we were on the moon, away from Earth, and it all seemed so far away. But we knew. We knew that the second we got back, the second I had to be babysat like some kid who couldn't hold their own, that it would all hit us too hard. That this was more than a few creatures. That this had something to it that we didn't know, something we weren't seeing.

That this actually had a possibility of not ending well. A very real possibility.

"We leave now." Pitch said, and I looked up as he pushed back his chair, standing regally and without argument.

"Wait a moment, Pitchiner." MiM said, using Pitch's old name in a way that grated my nerves, holding up a hand and standing himself. Pitch turned, eyes dark and giving away nothing. "Stay, just you, just for a moment. I wish to have a word with you while your friends gather any belongings that they have here, and gather again in no longer than a few moments. After that, of course, you may leave so that I can get right to work on a neglected subject."

There was a tension between the two, one I couldn't blame them both for having, as the rest of us stood. I cast a look at Pitch, wondering if he was actually going to stay or if he needed me to help him bail. His eyes flickered to me for a second, just a second, but they held reassurance. Whatever it was he could handle it. I nodded and shoved my hands into my pockets, wanting out of the room, pronto.

"Very well." Was all Pitch offered as the rest of us turned and began filing out, me knowing I'd have a lot of questions to answer from the others once we managed to get ourselves into the hall and a respectful distance away. As I made my way to the door, only Jack left behind me, I looked backwards towards Pitch and MiM, but neither looked my way.

Instead, they seemed to hold a kind of odd stare with the other, something going between them that I couldn't quite place. I didn't know why they were speaking, but it had been common knowledge the two didn't like each other. They hated each other...

But for some reason, the look in MiM's eyes, the feeling Pitch gave off, the something between them...I felt like there was more than hate between them. That this conversation was going to be about something else. Something that made me a bit nervous, though I didn't know what it was. And for a moment I wondered, possibly, if even Pitch had been hiding something from me...

"C'mon, I wanna look around a bit!" Jack usshered me out to the others, one last glimps back before the doors shut. MiM's eyes were dark, sad. He seemed to age every second we were around him.

Pitch just stood there, as if ready to take whatever was said to him. And in a last second, I could have sworn he'd turned to me, but it was all to fast to say anything for sure.

_~Pitch Black~_

The universe swayed drunkly above us as he waited, as he looked into my eyes as if they held the answer he sought, as if they showed the outcome he hoped for. He watched them with knowing and acceptance, with denial and desperation. He watched them as if I were going to tell him it was all going to be alright, that everything was going to work out in the end, that his pain would eventually stop. But those weren't words for him. They didn't belong to him. They belonged to the one girl who never got them.

I could see a rim of gloss on his lower lid as he fixed me with a steely look, face now more aged than it had ever been. This strong man crumbling because of one girl. If only she knew, possibly she'd have been more satisfied with this journey of ours. But Astrid was delightfully oblivious.

"You told me once, a long, long time ago, that she was more than a pawn to me." He said quietly, voice hushedly echoing from the massive walls around us, from the glass displaying the world above us. I gave him merely a frown as I remained silent, not intending to speak unless he asked a question. I had very little more to say, anyway. He paused, taking in a deep breath and narrowing his eyes at me, hands folded in his sleeves in front of him.

"You once mocked me for the same fault that has befallen yourself." He said in venom and accusation. And maybe this was the moment it all came to me. Maybe this was the moment it all suddenly hit. Maybe this was the moment that cemented it all, even if just the possibility. Afterall, had I had actual time to look back and reflect on it all, I couldn't say we were the same as we had been in the beginning, that what we had was the same. It had changed. Morphed. Grew along with us.

Maybe this was the moment it all came to a head...but maybe not. Because yes, I felt pain. I felt the sting of realization, I felt the ache of the truth behind the entire situation itself. But I felt no shock. I felt no denial. As if my mind had been preparing me for this without telling me, putting the puzzle together in silent study and analyzing caresses, nights, banter, tears, dancing, and protectiveness. Maybe I knew it all along. Maybe I wasn't so much surprised, as I was melancholy. As I was bittersweet.

I looked up into the universe and wondered if this kind of this were trivial or not in the big picture of things.

"I also told you we were different. You brood and angst over her, you allow your heart to influence your decisions. Since the moment you laid eyes on that girl, you knew it was inevitable that you would fall for her. It happens to almost everyone she meets, they all want to care for her and protect her, those that she allows to get to know her. They all end up loving her. You just took it to the extreme, all the while ruining her life."

"But you too are at the same fault!" He insisted roughly. My eyes calmly watched the stars pass overhead, and a bittersweet smile fell onto my face. Odd, I found it, that I smiled when it seemed the least appropriate time for it. But I did, possibly because had I not the true feeling behind it would have shown on my face.

"...Because I have another fault, MiM, and that is that I give her a choice."

He had no more to say to that, and I looked down from the stars to the Man in the Moon, a sorrowful smile still on my face, his own holding back his own sorrow, his own pain, his own struggles. And if only Astrid could see it now, how she had crippled two of the most powerful men in the world without doing a thing.

"Until you realize that she has no laws and follows no code, you will never have her. No one will." I shook my head and he opened his mouth to say something, the bottom rim of his eyes red, face taught and a broken look in the man's face.

"Hey! You guys done with your love-fest yet?" Astrid shouted in, knocking loudly on the doors. Whatever it was that MiM was about to say died on his tongue, and he shut his lips slowly. And in a moment of silence, a moment of mutual pain and hatred for the other, he nodded.

"Just a moment you impatient little brat." I called calmly, and almost heard her scoff. I turned to exit the room, to leave this conversation behind me. And I almost had, hand on the doorknob and more than prepared to leave, hearing the snorts of the nightmare outside, when MiM spoke one last time.

"You are wrong, Pitchiner." My hand froze on the icy cold knob of the door, everything around here much colder to me than it seemed to be to the others. And I waited for his next words.

"...I will never have her. Not even if I could repair my faults...no. I could never hold a place in her heart, for it is full of you, and you alone."

The footsteps of the others muffled, their voices laughed and Astrid's rang out the most lively and sharp, cunning, showing her experiances through tone and word. A voice you had to listen to, because no matter what it said, it stayed with you. A voice you could never forget. Not really.

"It's 'Pitch'." I pushed open the door, Astrid throwing some well-timed remark and making Jack snicker, the nightmare whinying and nuzzling into my hand, the butterfly still fluttering around its mane, as if sharing some secret connection, a game no one else understood.

A game maybe even they didn't understand.

"Farewell, my children. And know that I will be watching, always, and will alert North if I find anything of substance in the matter of Hal Overture Wean. Be safe."

I did not look back as the silver light suddenly enveloped us, this time not so gently and without the adrenaline to block out the sudden vertigo, the hit of weightlessness that I was far too used to. I heard the others call out as the floor fell away and all I could see was a silver, liquid-like moonlight.

A hand grabbed onto my wrist, a quiet curse that made me smirk. To my other side, the nightmare and butterfly continued to play their game, oblivious. Blissfully oblivious. I took the hand in my steadying one, and waited to return to Earth.

I had no idea what waited for us. Had I, I might never have let go of that hand.


	18. Words You Can't Take Back

_-You guys are awesome. Seriously, your comments and feedback make me smile inside 3 Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

I was in a place I'd never been before, but it was all so familiar. I knew the feel of the grass, closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath in as honey and fresh, clean air blew through the trees and over the hills. The air was cool and gentle, the sun above slight and easy, the sky a kind of organic shade of blue, unfiltered from chemicals or smog. The trees swayed and leaves rustled. Creaks and shifting grass could be heard as eggs trod through the fresh dirt paths, as a certain peace allowed no silence and yet no stress, no fear. It felt like Autumn, looked like Spring.

I unzipped my hoodie and allowed the air to touch my stomach, allowed myself to breathe and close my eyes, somehow knowing the trails without having to look, without having to touch. Again, it was that strange pull of knowing where he was, like an instinct that never went away when the rest had faded. So I just let myself go, remembering days of rolling down hills, playing with the younger children, learning about the trees and the flowers. It all seemed so far away now. So trivial.

I opened my eyes when I passed a point between two hills, a bridge arching between them overhead, and saw a pooling of bright green grass and trees lining the outer rim, though not as dark as the ones I was used to. Thinner, lighter, with healthy and multi-colored leaves. A trail of unpainted eggs stood impatently, jumping on tiny feet as they waited to be dropped into the river ahead, flowing in a mix of yellow and pink that never blended together, no matter how fast the current went.

"Tooth finally let ya go?" He asked as I sat down next to him, both of us sitting on either side of the line and monitoring them, making sure the eggs landed and jumped out safely on the other end. I nodded and mused, pushing and egg in that was struggling to jump,

"I was supposed to be here an hour ago, but she just kept-"

"Talking." We both finished in unison, and he chuckled, me shrugging and smirking a bit, fingers coming through my hair. This place calmed me, gave me a similar feeling to the one I'd felt when we'd been at the two trees, when a strange calm washed over me. This time, though, a bit of stress did find its way in, pulling and tugging at the back of my mind, making me anxious and fidget with my hands.

No, it wasn't too awkward talking to Aster. We could talk, we could sit comftorbly in silence. It was just painful, just a bit, sitting next to him and knowing he still didn't remember, and now not knowing what he thought about it all, not knowing if he were struggling or not with it. Hell, he was about as expressive as I was. But that wasn't the problem, the pain and sadness that I was accustomed to around him. No, that wasn't what caused the stress, the anxiety that built up in my gut even as the atmosphere kept it at bay.

It didn't like being babysat. I didn't like people watching over me. The workshop was one thing, where I could go in and out of everyone's sight, hide if I wanted, brood, explore, go outside. I had freedom there to do whatever I wanted. I didn't even need to stay at the Pole, just go back there at night or if I thought anyone was in danger. But this was something else entirely.

I couldn't leave their sight, really, and if I did I couldn't go more than a few feet without them calling out for me. I mean I got it, they were just watching out for me. They were concerned, I could see it in North's eyes when he thought I wasn't looking, in Tooth's fidgeting when I ventured accidentally too far away from her, in Sandy's dreamsand. Even Jack wanted to keep me close, though that may have just been for talking. They were worried, and I could see it in each of their eyes, that look of _not knowing_.

Not knowing what we were up against. Not knowing Hal's next move. Not knowing how or why he seemed so confident that he could kill me. I was pretty sure the Guardians were used to having a firm grasp over things...but this? This was a duct-tape plan at best. None of us had ever been up against something like Hal, someone we knew so little about. North had researched him, sure, but he didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. Hal was dangerous, unstable, and prone to pushing 'tricks' a bit too far.

So they didn't know, and they were trying to keep me safe because of that. And it was wonderful, and I felt like I should have been more thankful...but I still wasn't used to people caring that much about me. I wasn't used to people fawning over me, wasn't used to being the center of attention like this, wasn't used to being held captive because some creep thought he could kill me! It was almost infuriating, the captivity of it all, and I felt my skin crawl and itch like it had when I felt all those eyes on me before.

It was terrible, and I was almost glad that Aster was the next person to watch over me. Here, at least, all that anxiety, restlessness, anger, and frustration could be drown out a bit by silence and watching eggs, something that went on for the next hour without anything else being said. It was calm. It was, at the very least, not horribly awkward. After awhile, though, Aster mused,

"The otha's seen any more of those creatures?" I nodded and continued to watch the colored river, eggs hopping out in tye-dyed swirls.

"North saw one or two on his way over to taking me to Sandy, and Sandy and I found another one. Other than that no, and those ones just seemed to be random stragglers anyway."

"Think Hal's tryin' ta make us comftorble?"

"Maybe. Wouldn't put it past him. Should have heard some of the shit he was spouting off. He made North sound sane." I muttered, reaching over and pushing in an egg, watching with a smirk as it jumped in the water angrily at me. Aster huffed and shook his head, saying lightly,

"Crikey, that _is _crook." I shrugged and stretched.

"Hey, could be worse. Could be Mother Nature trying to kill me, and that is one spirit I _do not _fuck with." I huffed, and Aster laughed...he _laughed, _and we both kind of paused for a second afterwards, him clearing his throat and me looking back into the river, picking at random blades of grass. But he was still smiling, and I could help the small smirk that found its way onto my face, even if it were only there for a moment or two before it went back into and indifferent line.

He shifted a bit, nodding out of the corner of my eye.

"Thought nothin' would scare ya afta' hanging 'round Pitch for so long." He scooped out an egg that was having a bit of trouble swimming, setting it down beside him to try and shaking the paint from his paw, me looking at it with a bit of curiosity. I nodded to it and disregarded his comment, something almost, almost easy settling around us, between us. I was still speaking guardedly, and his eyes were still looking at me unsure and carefully...but something was easing up.

"I don't get how you can still paint with those. I mean, you were the only one who I'd let put those symbols on my arms. Hell, painting was what you were known for, but...those things look just a bit confining." I said, pointing to them as he flexed his paws, eyebrows raised and an eyebrow quirked, a bit of a proud smile on his face as he shrugged cockily in a way that was all-too familiar.

"Eh, guess it just came naturally. Didn't rememba' a lick of my life before, so there wasn' much ta get used ta." He explained, and I frowned, a question coming to mind that made me pause. I looked at him and remembered something I'd heard either from him or MiM, something about me being the only spirit to be taken without having died first. The realization hit me and I inched in on myself a bit, not exactly sure if I wanted to know or not.

No, I knew I didn't want to know...but it didn't make any difference anymore, did it? I mean, he was here, and I was here...so why should I even ask? It didn't matter, not now...but still...

He must have caught the look on my face, because I saw him tilt his head a bit, a large ear twitching.

"Somethin' up, sheila?" He asked, and I looked away, further down the river as it turned gradually around a hill where eggs were rolling down and playing, my fingers pulling at my sleeves in an anxious way. And I couldn't stop the words from coming out.

"How did you die?" My words were struggled and quiet, and I heard a soft breath come from Aster, almost a sigh of relief. I looked over at him curiously, and saw him actually..._smiling_, running a paw over his ears and chuckling, saying playfully,

"Crikey, I thought ye were gonna ask somethin' serious!"

"Death is serious!" I exclaimed, and then paused, "Well...at least I think so. I've never actually...well...ya know." He waved a paw and said lightly, brushing it over,

"Ain't nothin' as big a deal as everyone makes it. Barely rememba' mine, ta be honest. I jus' rememba' a kinda tightness right here," He pressed a fist over his chest, right over his sternum, "An' then it was released, kinda like a spring. Then there was this light, and next thing I know I'm lookin' up at Manny an' I...just kinda _know_, ya know?"

"No, I don't." I said, shrugging and poking at one of the eggs until it jumped at me angrily. Aster was quiet for a moment, and I felt a tightness in my own chest, a fear that I'd just sent us back to angsty and awkward.

"...What happened? Afta'...ya know. How'd ya know what ya were suppose ta do?" He asked as carefully as I'd asked him how he'd died. Relief flowed through me as I let out a breath, leaning forward as a weight lifted. At least this was easy to answer.

"He told me. Guess I was his first one and he didn't want any miscommunication, or maybe he didn't know how to do the whole telepathy thing yet. Anyways, he came down to Earth, literally stood there looking like a freaking middle-aged Gandalf, and pretty much explained everything to me. I mean he was nice about it and all, but I... I don't know. I guess everything was happening so fast that I didn't have time to realize how much of a dick he was. I just kinda took it.

"It actually only took me like, what, 35 years to start 'rebelling', or whatever people said I did."

"What'd he do then?" Aster asked, and I scratched the back of my neck absentmindedly.

"He called me up to his giant castle in the sky. Said something about unacceptable and not knowing why I was doing what I was doing. I gave him a prompt and basic outline of why I'd rip his throat out the next time I saw him, and he sent me back in kind of a rage. He disowned me I guess, cuz I didn't hear from him again after that until yesterday."

"...I jus' don' know..." I looked over at Aster, seeing him looking over as each egg jumped from the river and hobbled into a sunny patch, drying and jumping, moving in their own silent language. His eyes may have been staring at them, but they were far away, narrowed and darkened, a frown on his face as he shifted, ears falling slowly back on his head. He exhaled a breath and looked down into the river, shaking his head.

"It's crook...first with MiM, knowin' what he did ta ya...an' then just you...I feel like everythin' I thought was wrong."

"It was." I mused matter-of-factly, shrugging, "Happens to me all the time. You'll get used to it." He huffed and muttered under his breath,

"Not helpin' there, sheila." I cringed, closing my eyes and cursing inwardly at myself. Great. Just fucking great. The guy actually tries to talk to you, to _talk to you_, after everything that had happened and all your wanting to just be friends with him if nothing else, and you go and pull out your horribly awkward social skills. Great. No wonder this jerk's probably having some severe inner turmoil with...ya know...you being his sister and all.

"Sorry." I tried, frowning into the river in front of me, brushing back my hair with one hand, "I don't, uh...it's not really easy to talk to people, ya know? I mean, after a few centuries with just Pitch, I'm not exactly..._good _at civil conversation." I felt his eyes on me as I shifted uncomftorbly, the climate around me slowly failing in what it had been doing, in keeping me calm and at ease, the anxiety and fears and frustration beginning to re-emerge, to coil in my gut, all the way up to my chest, skin pricking.

"...Were ya always like that? I mean, before." Aster asked quietly, curiously, and I bit my lip and shrugged.

"I guess. Why?"

"Jus' figure tha' maybe, maybe if ya can tell me abou' how ya were then maybe it'd kickstart somethin' in my memory." He offered, and I gripped my shins harder, eyes lowered as something else pulled at me, something else that was familiar. The need to get out. The need to run. The need to protect myself when everything got too much, when the world became too real and I needed to escape, when I felt like I was just on the brink of ruining everything. Ruining everything, hadn't Aster told me that once? If he had, he was right.

I couldn't even stand my own brother's eyes looking at me. I was fucked up. Hell, who could blame him for not wanting this as a sister?... I shook my head and suddenly stood up, brushing my pants off as I said quietly, hard, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"Maybe it's best you don't remember me." He turned and half-stood, looking confused, looking almost hurt, because that's what I did to people, wasn't it? I hurt them. I gave them tragedies in their lives, things they really could do without. Hell, not even just people. I inconvenianced everyone I knew, everyone who got near me. Spirits shied away from me. I just ruined Aster's life. And now the Guardians and Pitch had that much more to deal with when it came to me, having to protect me when they should probably be doing more important things. They were just too nice to tell me to leave...

I turned and began walking, throwing over my shoulder as a warning, a way to protect him from at least this,

"I'm not the same person I used to be...not your same sister anymore. Just forget it."

Aster tried to say something else, but smoke and my own mind blocked him out, suddenly in more of a rush to leave the Warren than I was to enter it, the smells now lost to me, the sights bleached by smoke and tragedy. I needed to get out. _Now_. I needed to find Pitch, but even some part of me felt that that was a bad idea, too. That maybe even Pitch couldn't make this better. But Pitch could make anything better, every meltdown, he'd seen it and I trusted him...

But there was that voice in the back of my head. That horrible, terrible little voice that told me that Pitch could really do without my constant problems, that Hal was wrong. I wasn't some inspirational badass. I was a whiney little girl with too many problems that got shoved onto everyone else, and they all now had both my problems and Hal's looming threat to deal with.

I pressed my hands over my ears and squeezes shut my eyes as the wind in the tunnels whipped past me, trying to block out the voice, trying to tell myself that it was just stress, but it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't shut up. It was still there, still talking, and as much as I tried not to, I was still listening. I was still heading towards Pitch.

_~Pitch Black~_

Her fears arrived a few moments before she did, and they were the only warning into what I was about to witness. They were her normal fears...and then some. Some that were louder, but also not quite fears. Worries. Anxiety. Thoughts and feelings with fear so heavily laced in them that the quiet thrumming turned into something a bit louder, not irritatingly so, but louder still. I quickly turned towards the door, knowing she wasn't supposed to be under my wing for another hour or so, just as it slammed open with such force that it actually had the momentum to swing back and slam shut behind her.

And there was definitly something wrong. Something I should have heeded a tad bit more.

"It's quite nice to see you as well." I mused sarcastically as she stormed past me.

"Not now!" She snapped with such ferocity that I turned to her, brow furrowed and, despite myself, a tad bit taken aback.

"Hm, bad day?" I asked a bit tightly, and jumped a bit as she slammed both hands forcefully onto the bookshelf against the far wall, the sound of it banging backwards against the drywall ringing out like a gunshot. She cursed loudly, and then shouted with just as much force,

"Shut. UP!"

What followed was a moment I wished I could have taken back. What followed was me losing my temper, because I wrongly assumed this was just another one of her temper-tantrums. Because I had a habit of doing that. Because, above all else, I too was a tad bit stressed. Ironically, this stress was from wanting to keep her safe.

"Excuse me, but I don't believe I'm the one who came barging in here like a bloody bat out of hell and acting like a distraught child without so much as an explanation!" I snapped scoldingly, and Astrid pushed herself away from the bookshelf, turning on me quickly and shooting out a stream of smoke into the ceiling, most likely to relieve some anger, but by the suddenly-dark, furious look in her eyes, I doubted it worked.

And then I did something entirely idiotic. I continued.

"Oh yes, I'm sure North will appreciate you 'redecorating' his ceiling as much as MiM did." I rolled my eyes as the sarcasm dripped off my tongue, crossing my arms and shaking my head as I looked to where I'd set up a nice desk in the bedroom I'd been afforded. I only did this because I could literally _feel _the anger vibrating off of her, sensed the sudden drop of temperature in the room.

And her fears were getting stronger. I cannot tell you to this day why I kept prodding, why I kept pushing. When I saw the anger in her eyes, saw that something was terribly wrong, because Astrid held everything better than this. She held it all in, she pushed through it, she never let it get to her. Until now. And I should have known, but I didn't. I didn't. Possibly for the same reason she stormed in in the first place.

"I didn't fucking _ask _for him to have me here, now did I?!" She snapped, her voice raw with anger as I glared over at her, eyes narrowed and hands tightening on my arms. The words poured from my mouth before I could stop them, grabbing at them and missing as more and more came. I had no idea where they'd come from, nor what they meant at times. I was a fountain of anger, and the words were all I could muster, were all that could relieve any of the frustration and fear within myself.

"Oh yes, as much as I was asked, isn't that correct? I distinctly remember a little girl decieving me into being here in this mess in the first place! You honestly think I want to be here, too? Around all these people that I can't stand! Oh yes, it is grand! But you wouldn't notice, would you? No, you're too caught up in making friends and enemies and running after a brother that will never remember you!"

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened a bit, the hurt so deep in her face that it actually choked the words in my throat, and my own eyes widened as I realized what I'd just said, what I'd just said to _her._ Horror gripped my chest, but I couldn't find words to apologize, everything stuck in my throat as she took a shaking step back, smoke accumulating below her, breathing heavy and her fears growing only louder in my mind, too loud not to read.

And they were terrible.

_'Why are you even here?'_

_'They don't want you here.'_

_'You only cause trouble.'_

_'They'd much rather not deal with your issues.'_

_'Do you ever do anything good?'_

_'Pitch is so tired of you.'_

_'Why are you even here?'_

__"Astrid-"

"Why did you keep coming back?" She asked quietly, angrily at the floor, cutting me off and also allowing me no answer. Because right after she'd asked it, her eyes suddenly clenched shut and the smoke around her suddenly tornado'd in force, the sound deafening as glass shattered over to my left, seeing only as I stumbled backwards that Astrid had flown out of the shattered window, shielded by smoke and darkness.

And in a moment I felt a certain dread drop in my chest. I tried to swallow it down, but my throat was too dry. I watched as the smoke clung to the broken bits of window, watched as the room suddenly fell silent, yetis yelling outside the door in response to the racket.

And I realized exactly what it was that I'd done. I'd hurt her. _Hurt her._ And I'd known that I was doing it, didn't I? I saw the look on her face, I knew something was wrong, and I just kept going, and then I said those things, I said those words, and then...then she'd looked at me like that. Like I'd just proven that voice in her head right...and hadn't I? Hadn't I just shown such little care for her? Hadn't I just become one of the things that I hated, the kind of things that only marred a scarred girl?

I looked around the room, at the books thrown to the floor from the force, and gripped my chest with one hand. It hurt. Deep inside, something hurt. Something was breaking. And I could almost laugh.

Only Astrid could show me I had a heart to break.

I was supposed to be the one to protect her. I was the only one that understood her. We had that connection, that bond, that something else. I was supposed to be the one that cared for her beyond words and comprehension for reasons even I didn't understand quite yet. I was supposed to be the ONLY ONE that never, ever hurt her.

I'd failed in all of those things in a few simple words. I looked over to the window, to the dissipating smoke. My hand balled into a fist over my chest. A long while ago, I might have thought myself a fool for acting in such a way over her, especially after her most recent behavior. But a long while ago I was the fool in denial.

And possibly I was still a fool for thinking I could fix any of what I'd just done. But I'd be a bigger fool to just sit here and wait for her to come back. Besides, she was under my watch...she always had been. And if I had it my way, she always would be.

_'Why did you keep coming back?'_

"Oh Astrid...if only you knew."

_~Astrid~_

I pushed my way through the forest, the snow getting into my sneakers and up my pant legs, but I felt none of it. I didn't feel the cold below me, didn't feel the sting of sharp bark as my hands pushed me along. I was numb as his words played through my mind, eyes squeezed shut and stumbling blindly forward. And his words were true. All of them. All of the words in my own mind. They had to be true.

His face when he'd said them...he'd been so _angry_, and I'd done that to him. I'd been under the illusion that...that we understood each other. That we were too close to get into something like that. That he was Pitch and I was Astrid and we just kinda went together, because of all the loneliness we'd suffered in the world, we'd always had the other. We were broken together. We accepted the other's baggage and flaws. Right?...Didn't we?...I'd thought so.

_'Stupid girl, you honestly thought he liked having to visit you when you had nightmares? If anything he pitied you. Now look what you got him into! He probably hates you right now, so much...'_

I stopped as my hand hit air, stopping and closing my eyes in a small clearing, arms wrapped around myself to keep everything in, because it was too much again, it was going to break and that voice in my head wouldn't stop and it was all just so there, it wasn't getting better and it wasn't going away, and it was all so _right_-

"Lovely night, isn't it?" I didn't even have time to flinch before a hand was slammed over my mouth, the fingers digging into my face in a way that was far too familiar, a breath on my ear, a voice a tad bit off, and something pressed to my chest, just over my sternum. Something cold, something metal, something pushed so hard onto the exposed bone, hoodie still unzipped from the Warren, that I could already feel it bruising.

I instinctively threw my hands up to tear his arm away from me, until I heard something 'click', something that, in my line of work, I knew very well. He was cocking a gun. I paused, mind swimming. His hand moved from over my mouth and instead wrapped around my midsection, pinning my arms to my side though I could still severely injure him with smoke, a seemingly trivial move.

But a chill was running down my spine, and his voice was soft, relishing, confident. And something inside me told me to run, to go, that this was not okay, that something was about to happen. But I couldn't think of what, what could possibly happen to me from a mere gun weilded by a maniac. There was nothing, no special bullet or some shit, that could kill me while MiM was still watching me.

"Are you legitimatly insain? A _gun_? You think a gun's gonna kill me?" I asked, looking down a bit to see a black gun in his large hand, his fingers pure-white and shaking, but not out of fear. Out of anticipation. Out of reverance. And I was almost a bit more confident, a bit more relieved. Yes, maybe he really was just insain and maybe he was just playing some game, some weird fantasy that he could actually kill me. Maybe he never really had a plan to begin with.

"No, not the gun. The bullet, Astrid." He said with a smile in his voice, now just a whisper into my hair on the back of my head, him hunching. I cringed and told myself that I'd let him shoot me, and then I'd really get to ripping his head off once he realized his little plan had failed. I wondered if there were places for spirits like him, like some mental asylum for wayward icons. And I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong, and that he was seriously going to regret this. But he spoke first.

"Look at the moon, Astrid." He breathed into my hair, and I paused before humoring him.

And then I realized.

And my heart stopped.

Because I knew now what he'd meant.

Because there was no moon out tonight.

"..._New moon_.."

BANG.


	19. Take Her Hand

_-After this chapter we will begin to wind down towards the end, with only an estimated three to four chapters left if that many. Until then please enjoy!-_

_~Pitch Black~_

The sound of her fear had led me this far, the nightmare and butterfly duo ahead of me and steering me in the correct directions, seeing that her path had wavered quite violently. I imagined her just going, going until she felt she'd sucessfully run away from it all. That was her default, her safety blanket. Running away from things when they got too bad. Not that I could blame her for this one this time, not that I _couldn't _blame myself.

I shook all the guilt from my head for now, knowing that if one wanted to find Astrid when she wanted to be missing, one had to concentrate. It even became difficult for me at times, though I could find that girl instantly at most times. Some times she was better at masking her fear. Some times she was too strong for her own good.

Which was why, when it suddenly dropped just as the nightmare whinneyed and shot straight-down into a clearing up ahead, I felt no concern. I felt hurt, certainly, knowing she was doing this because she wanted to shield herself from me in the only way she knew she could, knowing just how deeply my words had hurt her, knowing that for the first time she wanted to close off part of herself from me. I'd never experianced that before, just how deeply it cut to have Astrid deny you part of her.

I swarmed into the shadows of the trees just outside the clearing and took a moment, closing my eyes and knitting my brow, telling myself to calm, took a moment to collect myself. I was no longer stressed, no longer had superficial anger blinding me from what was in front of me. That wasn't what I needed to soothe. It was the hurt. And I knew myself all too well after centuries of being with myself that I could easily portray hurt as anger without intention.

I tried to stop replaying those words in my mind, tried to cull the horror of what I'd said last, tried to push down how sick I was with myself. I tried, and failed for the most part. But I knew that if I didn't show soon that Astrid had a habit of moving from one place to another rather quickly, and I'd spent a good four hours trailing her as it was, still behind though I moved through the shadows. I could still feel her words, could still feel my own, could still feel, more than anything, the look she'd given me.

All I could hope was that I said nothing more to hurt her.

Up ahead of me the nightmare made a distressed call, the sound of hooves tearing up the ground accompanying it. I shook my head and moved, knowing the nightmare was most likely concerned at my lack of presence, that I hadn't made it there yet. So I stepped from the tree and out of the shadows, though snow instantly clung to my robe and shoes, and walked forward, looking at the ground before me until I could see where the clearing began, standing just feet from it and seeing Astrid sitting on the ground, her back to me, the nightmare nipping at her pant leg nervously, concerned as the butterfly fluttered in jerky motions about her head.

She knew I was there, she always knew. She was the one person I could never sneak up on. And all was silent for a few moment, me gathering the last of myself into words and her giving nothing but slight movements, as if getting herself comftorble on the tree she sat against, but the movements were stiff and odd-looking. I brushed it off and took a few more steps forward, knowing that she was depending on me to end the silence, and I could give her at least that. So I closed my eyes, looked down, and by the time I'd re-opened them I spoke, eyes trailing forwards.

"Astrid...what happened...I've earned no excuse to-"

I cut myself off, because when I'd opened my eyes they had fallen on something odd. Something peculiar. Something that was wrong, out of place, and though I'd seen it countless times before, though it may be the only thing I had seen more often than Astrid, though the stark white of the snow made it stand out as if screaming it at me, as if shoving it in my face and telling me that something terrible had happened here...it took me a moment to understand what it was. To follow the trail of disturbed snow to the tree. To see the bright red highlighted against virgin white in an uneven and almost artistic-looking substance leading from the large pool of it to where Astrid sat against the tree. To understand that the nightmare was not worried. It was terrified. And Astrid wasn't tryin to make herself comftorble. She was writhing.

It was blood. And Astrid had shed it.

"Astrid!" I called out in a hoarse and horrified voice, instantly throwing myself forward into the clearing and kneeling before her, having roughly shoved away the nightmare in order to see her.

And what I saw made my heart stop. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I could only stare in horror, feeling a sick sense of dread well up within me, as I looked on wide-eyed at the sight before me. A trembling hand pressed weakly against a horrific-looking wound, blood matting her skin and clothing, running from where it was over her sternum to her stomach where it was smudged from snow, over pale hands. It looked just as vibrant on her pale skin as it did in the snow. And a world more horrific.

I couldn't move, couldn't do anything until she suddenly moved, until she suddenly looked up at me and I locked eyes with her. Until I saw the reason for her fear, despite this, being diluted.

She was fading. In the same way I'd seen multiple mortals do. In her eyes, I could see the incoherantness, could see the pale of her skin, could see the first signs of massive blood-loss, I could see the confusion and haziness. I could see her slipping, her mind too damaged to feel the fear. But it was there. That was what I also saw. Despite the confusion, despite the slow slip, I saw it. She was terrified. And she was depending on me to hold her hand and guide her through the fear, as I'd done on multiple occasions.

I did exactly that, for it was the only thing I could think of, knowing to keep a calm and controlled mind but the utter terror and realization dawning on me, my own hand trembling as I reached it forward and took hers in my own. It was slicked with blood and cold, far too cold, and limp, but I held it with more force and reassurance than I had ever done previously, because this time it was meant for both of us.

"Astrid...what happened here..?" I whispered, voice still hoarse, mind still not completely able to wrap itself around what I was supposed to do, only registering that I saw Astrid, and blood, and it had come from her, and that she was bleeding and slipping away...

But she couldn't do that. She was immortal. It was impossible, too impossible... And then I remembered Hal. And his cockiness, and his assurance, and MiM's concern, and Astrid being alone and I was supposed to be watching her, _I _was supposed to be protecting her, and then I said those things and now...

"P-Pitch..." Her voice was trembling, was weak and barely a breath. And Astrid wasn't supposed to sound this way. She was supposed to be angry, and angsty, and serious and witty and sarcastic and...not like this. Never like this. Something was wrong.

Something was wrong.

Whatever she had meant with those words, it snapped me back, seeing the pleading in her eyes. She was afraid. I was the only one who could help her. And I would.

And suddenly I went into survival mode, instantly recalling everything I knew about wounds, the extensive libarary in the back of my mind taking over where the rest of my mind had failed me, and I began acting without thinking of anything but the wound. I allowed myself to slip into this, instantly tearing away her hoodie and tying it tightly around the wound and her shoulder, cinching it lightning-fast. This was the only way she would survive. She had to survive. She was Astrid, the thought of her dying never even occured to me...

Which might have been why all of this seemed so detatched, so surreal, why part of me had just shut down at the sight of Astrid bleeding, of Astrid slipping away. Because I couldn't lose her. She was my constant companion. She was something I didn't deserve and would never let go of. I could never be without her. I didn't even know if I remembered how to be.

"Astrid, I'm taking you to North's. Don't you _**dare**_ fall asleep, do you hear me? Keep your eyes open, tell me exactly what happened and don't stop." I ordered firmly as I shifted beside her, leaning down and scooping her up in my arms in a cradling fasion. She winced and instantly buried the side of her face in my chest, feeling her quick breaths on her back and in head across my chest, her arms limp across her abdomen.

"Astrid, speak!" I ordered harshly as I gathered shadows around us. It was time for a travel that was rather fast, but also quite harsh to those who were not me, who couldn't just form into the shadows. I anchored her to me as the shadows ammased, seeing her take in a shaking breath, struggling to keep her eyes even half-lidded. When she spoke it trembled, it was weak and wavering from breath to actual speech.

"H-Hal...I was here, then...he was too...and behind me...and then a..."

"What Astrid? A what?" I asked quickly as the shadows finally wrapped around us. She paused and gulped, blood slicking her back as I held onto her as best I could.

"...A...a gun..." My blood ran cold, but that part of my mind that was thinking of nothing but her survival held strong, and I nodded as I closed my eyes and concentrated on allowing us both to slip into the shadows, feeling a tight wind around her as she instantly tensed and buried her whole face in my chest.

"I've got you, Astrid..."I whispered to her as I felt shadows pulse, shift, move, knowing my destination without hesitation, taking us there without so much as a thought through my mind. "I've got you..."

It was hardly a few seconds before the shadows ripped away and my eyes flew open, the infirmary of the Workshop laid out before me, along with startled and shouting yetis.

"Get North!" I screamed at them with all the force I could muster, seeing all of them jump and instantly clamor for the door, rushing out as fast as they could as the other half of them rushed a bed I was already heading towards, one of many lined against the wall. Astrid was breathing, but it had slowed, and that was not a good thing when it had been fast and rackety.

I laid her down and saw her face less scrunched, less tense, and now more weak and terrified. I gripped one side of the bed as a tan-furred yeti undid her hoodie and threw it behind it, jerking in shock at the wound. I didn't imagine they saw too many gunshots, but I had to give them credit as they instantly shot around and called out in a foreign language, one rushing a tray of something and the other a tray of bandages.

"Astrid," My voice wavered once, but I fixed it. She didn't need to hear my own fear, didn't need to even as my adrenaline kicked in and voice shook with it, with need and fear and worry and adrenaline and Astrid, just Astrid and knowing nothing of what happened, just that it had been Hal and a gunshot and Astrid was slipping. Into what I didn't know. Never wanted to know. "Astrid listen to my voice, do you understand you brat? Listen to me and don't you dare close those eyes. You are staying right here, I will not allow you to go!"

The door slammed harshly to the infirmary and North's heavy footsteps sounded, shouting at the yetis about racus and what was happening. I couldn't see him, couldn't hear him really, could only acknowledge his presence as I looked at Astrid, as I took her in and assessed her myself, a sudden whirlwind of chaos around me but my world focused in on her.

Sweat shone on her skin, goosebumps rising on her stomach as it tensed every now and again, each time weaker and trembling, along with the muscles in her neck and arms. Her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, hands trying to grip the now-blood splattered sheets beneath her but failing. They were too weak, fingers searching out for something that took me a moment to understand.

I instantly reached out and took her blood-slicked hand in mind, running a thumb across her knuckles as her arm instantly un-tensed, neck twitching as she swallowed and made a noise of pain. A noise Astrid never made, not even in her worst nightmares. A strangled noise. A cut-off noise. The noise of an injured animal. A noise that rose goosebumps on my skin, and made me want to be sick.

Because Astrid shouldn't look this way. She shouldn't sound this way. She shouldn't be so covered in blood, surrounded by shouting yetis and a stunned-silent North, she shouldn't make these sounds. She'd been shot. But Astrid could survive a gunshot. She'd been hurt worse than this and came out kicking, nothing but a few bruises. She never bled. Never. None of us did.

Until now.

The yeti that I assumed was at the head of all of this, the one that had ordered the others to assemble the supplies, suddenly got my attention and shouted something at me. I furrowed my brow and shook my head, not understanding what he was saying, though it seemed frantic and important, something I should understand but just couldn't, all the while Astrid slipping away further and further.

"I don't know what you are saying!" I exclaimed, but North's voice answered. But it wasn't North's voice. This voice was from somewhere different inside of North, a place Wonder couldn't touch. A place from long ago. It was dark. It was serious. And there was years of pain behind it.

"Es gunshot wound, he says. No time for anesthetic." He translated, and I instantly looked at him and saw a different North looking back at me with eyes telling me that I knew what he meant, and if I didn't follow through then something bad was going to happen. With eyes dark and a frown, a face showing battlescars and age marks. This was not Santa. This was Nicholas St. North, who didn't have to know what was happening to know that Astrid was slipping away, and there was no time for questions or hesitation.

Save her now. Get the whole story later.

I instantly nodded to the yeti, who held something like pliers in his hands. He nodded back and I quickly leaned far over Astrid until she couldn't see her chest, tilting her chin up until she could look at me and me only, the other hand squeezing hers. I tried to offer her a reassuring smile, one hand trailing fingers over her cheek tenderly, doing everything possible to offer my own anesthetic.

"Astrid, squeeze my hand as if you want to break it, understand? You should be good at that, just think of the time I tried to teach you to dance, or to read. Remember that? You nearly finished me off right then and there. Or the time you met me, and you were so scared and confused that you just attacked. But remember how we laughed at it later? Or how I finally got you to understand a few words and you soon were able to get through almost an entire book all on your own? Do you remember what that book was?"

I just spoke, spoke as I felt the yeti's fur brush my arm and saw her jerk suddenly backwards, the yeti shouting out as I instantly hushed her and pet her face, seeing it convulse in pain and her jaw tighten, eyes flying wide open.

"Astrid, tell me the name of the book. That inferior book that I detested but you loved, like all things I hate." I said quickly, my own voice shaking a bit as she squeezed shut her eyes before opening them again, mouth suddenly opening wide to take in air, her body tense and knowing that she wanted to scream, hoping she'd be able to speak, to tell me, to remember at least, to know that she was still here somewhere, to know she hadn't slipped that far.

I heard the yeti working just inches from me, felt her hand squeezing as tight as it could as her eyes showed panick and fear. But she spoke. She spoke in a cracked, hoarse voice.

"O-of...Mice...and Men." She answered before making a groaning, pained noise and crying out, my hand instantly lacing into her hair on the side of her head and feeling my pulse race, gut twisting in fear and stress and panic, just imagining the kind of pain she must be going through, how loud she must want to scream, and almost laughing at how strong she was still being despite all of this. Or possibly I wanted to laugh from nerves, her strength never being something I was fond of.

"Yes, that terrible thing that I wish I'd never shown you. I believe I still do have it somewhere, and I'll test to see if you've been practicing by making you read it aloud once you're all healed. If you fail I will make you read Shakespeare, that man with the horrific bald spot that you couldn't help but point out everytime I tricked you to one of his performances." I sounded ridiculous, I sounded just a tad bit crazed, but my Astrid lay there in front of me, bleeding, as a yeti removed a bullet from her chest without any sort of numbing medication, holding her bloodied hand in mine.

I deserved a bit of nerves.

"Es out!" North suddenly exclaimed just as the yeti jerked back and Astrid let out a strangled breath of reliefe. But it wasn't over. No, I felt it was far from over. Too far.

"The bleeding! What are we going to do about that?!" I demanded, moving my hand from her hair to her chest over the wound, pushing down until I managed to ebb most of the blood. I barely felt it on my hand, didn't feel heat where I should have, disgustion when I should have. I just felt pressure on her chest and her hand in mine, and a panicked lump in my throat making my voice hard and hoarse.

There was a silence and I looked up at North. And his face gave me the answer. His eyes were looking at Astrid with a long, ancient pain, and something terrible behind them. North looked old. He looked tired. And he looked lost. Behind his eyes was a helplessness. Because there was nothing he could do. Because his answer was that she had lost too much blood, and they had no time to replace it or stitch the wound.

The yetis still shouted and conversed tensly, arms waving, but the lead was silent, looking from the shouting comrades to the bandages to the wound, and as I looked from North to the yeti, it looked at me.

In its eyes was an apology.

And I felt my very heart rip from my chest in that very moment. Because it wasn't the thought of what I had said that hurt. The thought of Hal winning that hurt. It was the memory of every time Astrid had ever made me smile, made me chuckle, and above all, made me downright _happy_. Centuries passed between Pitch Black becoming who he was and him meeting Astrid. And I'd lost hope in that. In being happy. And she gave me that again, the realization that I could be and was. Moments passed between just us that I remembered in the dark, in the isolation.

Her sarcasm. My wit. Our dysfunctional little something that we couldn't describe. Our depending on the other. Dancing. Reading. Shouting. Laughing. Soothing. Nightmares. Butterflies.

I saw the hopelessness in their eyes and imagined a world where none of those things happened ever again. A world where I was alone, and no one would need me at night when they got frightened. A world where I could say something and there would be no one on the other end to reply with a wit sharp as a knife and a smirk like it was easy. I'd lived in that world once. After Astrid, I didn't remember how to live in that world again. I couldn't. There was no 'after Astrid'.

I looked down at her and saw her looking at me with that look of fear and weakness, of sleepiness and slipping away, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. Her blood on my hands. The wound, black soot around it mixing with the blood...black granulas that looked like sand...Hal.

And suddenly I knew what to do. It might not work. In fact, it was a bigger miracle if it worked than if it just stopped bleeding altogether on its own. But that wasn't going to happen, it wouldn't stop bleeding unless we closed the wound, and I didn't know why I thought this would work. Why I even thought to try it...no, I did know why I thought.

Because this girl that defined my life was laying here dying, yes dying, and I had to do something. North wasn't about to help. The yetis had given up. And Astrid was looking at me to guide her through the fear. I would never let her down, never without one hell of a fight. And it was going to sound mad, but at the moment I was a bit mad, and I didn't give a shit what the other's thought.

There were no others. They could move on without Astrid. They could live their lives without her and with only a few sad words in her memory. Astrid _was _my life. Somewhere along the way, she had become that. And I wasn't about to lose that.

"Astrid, I need you to listen to me. " I said loudly and firmly, pushing on the wound as her eyes flickered up to mine weakly, half-lidded and tired. My heart pounded and adrenaline kept me from stopping, kept me from thinking about anything, anything but my plan and Astrid and needing to save her. "Your tissue is a part of you, it is to all humans. But your smoke is also a part of you, and where your tissue fails it can pick up. It comes from you, doesn't it? So it can also repair you, but it needs substance, it needs something to form it together.

"You're too weak to create the amount needed, so I'm going to help you, but you're going to have to trust me with it, understand? We're going to use Hal's little trick against him." She didn't have the strength to give me a look of incredulouslness and confusion, but I saw it in her eyes.

"Pitch-"

"Astrid, trust me! Please! We don't have time for this, just trust me and I can make this better, I promise. I always do." I pleaded as I cut off North, pressing my hand into her chest and feeling something stinging on my eyes, a massive lump in my throat that broke my voice once or twice, a desperation in my chest. And she looked at me for a moment longer, the fear in her eyes, and I was sure I looked a bloody mess. But she was literally a bloody mess, and I was the only one who could help her.

Finally, I saw something in her eyes that gave me my answer, and I breathed out in reliefe only to instantly take her hand and place it right next to mine, touching the wound and pressing down on it with the hand holding it, closing my own eyes and curling over her, something inside of me begging, praying that this work. It had no chance of succeeding. But I was the only one who would lose everything if I lost her. Astrid _was _my life. I had to take this chance, had to know I at least tried.

"Astrid, when I saw 'now', I want you to use all the strength you have to push this wound full of smoke, understand? I don't care if I get hit, I don't care if it hurts, keep going until I say 'stop'. And just breathe, even if you become suddenly afraid. It's all in your head, you're going to be fine, and I wont leave you if it's the very last thing I do. I will be here, so just keep pushing...okay?...Ready...you can do it Astrid...just keep pushing...

"NOW!"

The world turned dark in this moment, as nightmare sand and smoke collided between our hands. And I'd known what was going to happen, just not exactly how terrible. Because the second I said 'now', she pushed with all her might, and I pushed with all of mine, and the smoke and sand quickly exploded between our hands, and I felt something tight, something form between us. And it was one moment of reliefe, one moment of pure bliss, of actual hope...

And in the next moment I inhaled the smoke.

And I continued as long as I could, but every part of me screamed to stop.

Because I felt my tragedy.

Because I saw it play out behind my eyelids.

Because I realized why spirits may hate her, but none of them inflicted Astrid's wrath.

Because I had to keep going, going until I felt we'd done enough, but...there were no words.

Because I saw her.

And I heard her voice again.

_'Daddy...'_

__"STOP!"


	20. The Bent, Not Broken

_-You guys are seriously amazing and your feedback makes my day. I'm so happy you're enjoying this and I hope the following fluff meets your expectations. And sorry for the long chapter, there was just angst, and then it brought more angst, and then a little something else I think you'll like. Also, there are 'Guardians of Childhood' book references in this chapter, but nothing too confusing if you haven't read them. Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

_ I could feel it. All of it. Every inch of everything, all hyper-aware as if every nerve had been exposed, as if every sense were now in painful hyper-awareness. Externally, I could feel my hands bunch into the sheets below me, could feel my back arch, could feel the pulse of fear through my chest until it became painful, my breath suddenly strangled and heart hurting physically, an ache behind my bones, right in the center of my chest. I could hear the sound of something beeping, could hear the gentle click of clock hands, feel the sweat chilling on my skin._

_ Internally, it was a whole different kind of hell._

_ It was as if every nightmare I'd ever had decided to find one another, all of them mixing and forming and tearing away at me__subconciously. Flashes of one. Flashes of another. But none of the foreplay, none of the parts in the beginnings where life was normal. No. This was only the bad parts, the worst parts all screaming in my head and flashing behind my eyes, this time almost as if they were inside of me, connected to me and suffocating me._

_ I felt the fear in a way I'd never felt it before. Because before it was all in my mind. Before it could be soothed away with touches and whispers. This time it was part of me, stuffed and ripping and tearing until I felt like screaming, but when I wanted to I couldn't, like in a terrible nightmare where all you can do it open your mouth and make small squeaking sounds, no actual screaming. _

_ A flash of Aster walking through me, as if I were never there to begin with. A flash of the gun going off, though I'd never actually seen that. A flash of spirits circling me, shouting at me, taunting me, throwing things and laughing at my pleading. A flash of something dark in the shadows, coiling, waiting for me when I was all alone. A flash on the moon growing larger and larger until it was too big, until it was going to crush me. A flash of something else. Something that wasn't a nightmare. Something else that had joined the fear inside of me, that had molded to it. Something familiar._

_ Tragedy. But not my own. It belonged to someone else, a smell of it familiar, suddenly crashing in with the other flashes until I couldn't make anything out but images and a disorienting sense of fear and tragedy, fighting within me for dominance, leaving me crashing in the waves. In the images._

_ A flash of shadows suddenly engulfing someone, nightmare men and__fearlings__screaming and clawing like starved animals. A flash of birthdays spent leaving boomerangs under trees. A flash of darkness, pure__darkenss, and the sounds of people screaming. A flash of an empty village square, a crushing realization of isolation. Of abandonment. A flash of a room, small, one I remembered. Why did I remember it?_

_ A flash of calling out, silent-screaming in terror, no one coming to rescue me, alone in the darkness. _

_A flash of a young girl crying, looking at something beyond my field of vision and trembling, eyes wide. A girl I remembered. Long ago. Too long ago. But suddenly, I remembered, as if it had been such an important moment._

_A flash of a gunshot._

_A flash of Pitch screaming._

_"Daddy!"_

_"STOP!" _

"PITCH!" Finally I screamed, sitting up in wherever I was and letting out loud, ragged breaths, as if all of the screaming I'd wanted to do just couldn't get out, as if I needed to keep screaming about something, anything, because I had to get it out. Had to get it all out. It pressed harder than ever, this time almost as if it were embedded in the bones of my chest, in my ribs, pressing and clawing and swarming, inside of me in an invasive way, darkness and tragedy swirrling and intertwining and making everything that much more acute.

I could feel it, the tremors and aftershocks of the fear, of the tragedy, all of it slamming into me at once as I gasped, about to latch my arms around myself, to push and hold inside, to scream and fight and claw until it was all gone. I felt it in my bones. I felt it in my blood. In my skin, chest, heart, muscles. I felt the cocktail of pain inside of me, this time rooted like a weed, and I wanted to rip it out, to tear open my chest and remove it because it was suffocating, but the second I twitched my arm to bring it up massive hands held both my wrists down, two on one and two on the other.

"Astrid! Es okay, you are safe here! Are in Workshop, hush now, I must remove IV before you bend arm." North's voice suddenly broke through my haze and I grasped at the shred of normalcy, of familiarity, and used it to pull myself out of the shattered, flashing, engulfing fear and pain. I still felt it in my body, could still feel the ache of the mixture in my chest as breathing became just a bit easier, but my mind managed to clear enough to register my surroundings, to remember what had happened.

There had been a clearing. Then Hal and a gun, and then the moon was missing, and then suddenly Pitch was there and holding my hand, and then he was telling me about 'Of Mice and Men', and then something about smoke...and I was in the infirmary. I wasn't sure what part of that memory was aftermath from the nightmares, but what I knew for fact was that I'd been shot. Yes, that's right. I was shot, Pitch took me here, and then something happened right before I fell into that vortex of horror.

And I was safe. I was safe and here with North. I took a deep breath. I let it out. The storm in my mind ebbed, if not in my body. I opened my eyes.

"Es okay, see?" North whispered, his smile bright and warm, eyes squinted in a smile of reliefe, a smile of love and caring. Something tight wound in my chest, and I suddenly felt the need to wrap my arms around this man and just...vent. To tell him how much he had done for me, tell him how thankful I was, tell him how he was insain but I kinda liked that because it made him this insain uncle figure and I just...I just kinda needed a hug sometimes.

I didn't know what had just happened. All I knew was that it hurt, and I was scared, and I almost died. I felt torn open, rubbed raw, like the very foundation of my being had been shaken and I was left a trembling, vunerable mess. And I felt pathetic, but I also felt very weak. Too weak to reprimand myself about it. Because I could feel it in my veins still, could feel something wrong, something torn open inside of me and filling in with mentally and emotionally scaring flashes. A nightmare that affected my entire body.

That wasn't...normal. It wasn't like other nightmares I'd had. And I felt unstable after it, I felt like I'd been broken, like some part of me was tainted and it was all just so there, so raw and out in the open. I felt exposed and tired and anxious and like everything was suddenly so real and too bright and I needed the darkness, I needed something that wasn't sleep to sooth me...

"...Where's Pitch?" I asked, my voice quiet, the yetis slowly letting go of my wrists as North walked over to my right side, pausing with his hand raised to my shoulder. He was asking permission. I could almost laugh, North asking permission the one time when he didn't need to. I nodded, my chest swelling at the gesture, North somehow knowing how sensitive I was, how shaken. He was treating me like an injured puppy, and this may be the only time when I wouldn't reprimand him for it. I felt like I needed it.

"He es sleeping in room... He saved life. If not for him...well, of course it took toll on him as well. Fell asleep right next to you and I had yeti carry him to room. Now, this wont hurt, just no moving." North explained tenderly as I looked upwards at the door, feeling a sharp tug of tape, the removal of a bandage. I looked down. There was a pinprick of red on the crook of my elbow. Blood. I remembered the blood. Too much of it. Warm, even in the snow. I'd been soaked in it. I remembered a nightmare of drowning in it.

"Where did...?"I asked, looking down and seeing that I was no longer in my normal clothing, nor was the blood soaked into my skin. I was now in a black sweater about six sizes too big, the sleeves far past my hands and the hem of it going down so low that no pants were required, covering up to my knees.

"Yetis clean you as you slept, Tooth changed you. Only I have clothes to wear on everyday basis, and es teeeensy bit big on you, but you still look lovely..." I heard North whisper as his massive hands moved surprisingly nimbly, taking my elbow lightly and rubbing a disinfectant-laden cotten wad over the pinprick before placing a green band-aid over it. It had red candy canes.

"Can I see him?" I asked, tired, knowing I'd never have asked before. I would have just done. But I was tired, I was worn-out, I felt broken and tossed around...and I just needed him, but I also had no energy to fight left. It was like whatever had happened in order to save me had drained me of any and all energy to do anything but think and move lucidly.

"Es best if you rest..." North began, and I looked up at him as he paused. Something flashed across his eyes, something I couldn't read but looked...almost coy, but that couldn't be right...and he motioned to something behind me. I turned a bit, hair falling into my face, still a bit damp from sweat, and saw the nightmare and butterfly duo gallop over cautiously, as if afraid that I would do something if they approached too quickly.

The sight of the two actually did something to my nerves, their innocence and continued playfulness in a time like this making me crack a grin. I reached over with my left hand, beckoning them forward. The nightmare instantly threw its mane back and trotted over to me, nuzzling my hand insistantly as I brushed my fingers through the silt-like mane, the butterfly fluttering over my face as if checking me over.

"Two have not left side since you arrived! I trust zey can take you to room safely?" North asked warningly, and the nightmare offered him a whinney of excitement and agreement, the butterfly going back over and landing on its head.

"That's a yes." I translated for him, still smiling a bit but even that action almost too tiring, lips pulling and face tired, wondering if I could even stand up on my own. But Pitch was somewhere, he was tired too, and something inside of me needed him. Needed to see him, to know he was still there. Because the worst part about what had happened was the thought of our final words to each other. That the fight was our last meeting. That we wouldn't get anything else. And that tore at me more than any anger, odd emotion, strange pull, confliction.

I reached an arm forward and slung it over the nightmare's neck, its body pressing up against me to steady me as I slid from the bed, bare feet touching and ice-cold floor. At first, it was unsteady. The sweater fell to my kneese and I could feel it shake as I stumbled a bit, the nightmare throwing its head back and steadying itself for me to lean on. The butterfly offered all it could, gently landing on my shoulder and fluttering encouragingly against my neck until I could get my feet under me.

"Alright?" North asked, now standing at the door and holding it open for me. I nodded, the only thing I really could do, a strange pain in my chest, breathing still feeling a bit forced but my energy at least allowing me to stand pretty much on my own. The nightmare stayed beside me as I made my way to the door, my hand now there to act as a reassurance than a crutch.

"Es very important you both get rest, a meeting has been planned for this afternoon to discuss what happened my little babushka!" North exclaimed in a tone that was much more North, jolly and playful...but there was something else in it. Something a bit darker, something like worry or foreboding. I looked up at him curiously, but saw nothing but his warm smile and wonderous eyes, one hand holding the door and the other confidently on his hip. He looked just like he normally did, warming and inviting.

But something was wrong. Something about the way his face looked a bit forced, the facade of calm just that. A facade...

"Go, go! Not much time for the visiting, much to do!" He said, ushering me out of the room and closing the doors behind us as if we were actually in a hurry and he had something very important to do. I paused a moment, looking at the door and then to the nightmare, who nodded its head in confusion that was almost a shrug. Whatever was wrong with North, at least it wasn't just me that saw it.

I brushed it off as I was led down the hall by the nightmare, feeling a strange breeze on my legs that I wasn't used to, bare feet feeling the cold tiles of the floor, sleeve bunched up so that my hand could brush along the nightmare's mane. The Workshop was strangely quiet for mid-day, just a few sounds of mumbling yetis drifting down the darkened halls, the curtains pulled closed in an oddly purposeful manner. Even the scent of cinnamon was weaker, woodshavings even moreso, the only smell still going strong being peppermint.

And I realized that I might have missed even more than they had.

The nightmare suddenly reared back in front of a door and slammed down, hoofing the tiles and urgently throwing its head in the direction of the door, the butterfly shooting off my shoulder and to the nightmare's head, almost as if to calm it, but the beast continued in its frenzy.

"Hush! What the hell...?" I asked, quickly stepping to the door and gently pushing away the nightmare, fingers lingering on its nose. I pressed an ear to the door, wondering what could be inside that would upset a nightmare that usually had nerves of steel this much. At first, there was just silence, and I figured it must have been a mouse that startled him.

But then I heard a whimper. It was quiet, but I heard it. Not because my ear was pressed so hard against the door, not because it was quiet anyways in the hall. Because I recognized the voice behind it.

I threw open the door immediatly, and didn't pay attention to if I let it shut or not, just knowing that the room was dark, darker than it probably should have been, even without a window. Because shadows crept up the walls, writhed on the floors, and hung like a canopy from the bedposts. They writhed and jumped, as if obeying the emotions of the person they were attatched to. The person who lay in the bed with the head pressed against the right wall, the man himself facing the far wall.

There was no thinking that went through my mind at that point. No wondering why the scent of tragedy hung so heavily in the air. No wondering what to do our how to do it. No, it all just came to me, like an instinct that I'd never had to use, as if I'd known how to do it all along.

I sprinted over to him, instantly leaning over and hovering a hand above him, looking down on the man that was normally strong, sarcastic, and a bit brooding. He slept calmly and peacefully in any normal situation, remembering the day not so long ago that I'd woken up to him asleep at my bedside, remembering how smooth and calm his face had looked, that feeling it evoked...

Now he had none of that. Now, as I leaned over, I saw his face stressed and mouth open, panting and frowning, a look of distress in his features. Brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, panting. I knew this look. I'd seen it in people before, only they'd been awake. Yet it was no different asleep. No different, except that this wasn't just some person. This was Pitch. And I could feel something ripping in my chest, something horrible tensing in my heart.

I was never supposed to see Pitch this way. No one was.

And suddenly it all clicked. I knew what he was looking at. I remembered flashes. Flashes of a girl I remembered. Now knew why I remembered her, just not what her connection was. But I knew _what _she was. An a horror overcame me, just seconds before I remembered what I had to do.

"Pitch!" I whispered, and instantly grabbed onto this arm with one hand, pulling him over onto his back and about to reach a hand up to his face, bringing one knee up onto the bed to get better leverage, when he let out a sudden and sharp cry. I jerked back, heard the nightmare whinney behind me as the shadows instantly blackened the room, swarming up and completely covering the ceiling, the room going from dark to black in a matter of seconds.

Now I'd spent my fair share of time in the darkness, walking the nights with broken street lamps, being around Pitch where anything seemed just a tad bit darker. But this was different. This wasn't just dim or dark, this wasn't even comforting. No, normal darkness hid me away from the world, and the world from me. Darkness was something I could relax in, I could curl up and breathe in it while it wrapped around me like a protective blanket. Darkness and I had a bit of a thing going on.

This was complete blackness. It had no feeling of comfort or care. It gave no outline of anything, suddenly just darkness with nothing visible, not even my own hand as I brought it so close to my face that it touched my nose. Nothing. The entire room had gone black, as if someone had dropped us into an inkwell. And it was foreboding, it rose goosebumps up my spine and almost breathed fear and anxiety, tight and churning, a complete darkness that made my bones tremble, made my heart beat just a bit faster.

This was the darkness you feared as a child. This was what happened when the Boogeyman had a nightmare.

My skin crawled, my breath caught in my throat as I hunched over, heart pounding against my ribs as fear twisted in my gut, a voice in the back of my mind telling me to stop, to go run and get someone, or a damn flashlight at least...I didn't move from his side. If anything, I got closer to him, throwing my other leg over until I straddled his hips and could lean over, pressing on hand to his shoulder and the other fumbling its way up to his cheek, which trembled along with his erratic breathing.

Because yes, this was terrifying. And that was exactly why I needed to be near him.

"Pitch...Pitch, it's okay...shhh..." I hushed him, leaning over, the darkness making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, growing more and more ominous by the second, as if it were feeding on my own fear. I closed my eyes but that made no difference, just as dark behind them as it was in the room. I shook my head then, trying to tell myself to calm down, that I had to do this. I was tired. I was so tired. But Pitch never left me when I needed him.

Eyes still closed, I tried to focus on something other than the darkness. Other than the feeling it creeping up on me, just behind my back. Other than the utter intensity of it. I focused on Pitch.

My fingers trailed across his cheek, from the cheekbone to his jaw, and then into his hairline over his temple like he did with me. I was doing everything from memory, almost feeling it as it had happened before on myself as I copied his movements onto him. He anchored me, and something about him being there, about his heat and his presence, something about it let me know that even though I was trying to comfort _him_, he was simultaniously keeping whatever was in this darkness away from me.

His breath hitched under me, catching in his throat, and the sound he made next broke my damn heart. It was a whine, but a strangled one, a raspy one, a sound of pure and unadulterated emotional agony. A sound that, coming from Pitch, made the breath leave my body, and suddenly I just wanted him awake. I wanted him out of whatever hell he was in, and here with me. I wanted to hold him and let him know it was okay, that whatever that girl had to do with was over, that he was going to be fine because he was here with me and I wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him.

"Pitch, wake up!" I exclaimed, leaning over him more and moving my hand from his temple, letting it hover over his eyes. It had been a long time, a very, very long time since I had last done this. I had never felt the need to before, never seen the use in it and in fact did everything I could to try and make myself forget that I'd ever even done this in the first place. It was something I'd once condemned myself for doing.

Now, though, I was more than thankful that I could.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..."I muttered to myself, gritting my teeth and concentrating. My fingertips began to tingle, my mind swimming and falling out of place almost, like falling into a daydream, except that this daydream was myself searching through Pitch's mind. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it, a deep darkness and searching for smoke, searching for something coiled around the subconcious, feeling for it, prodding for it, smelling for it, fingers twitching in anticipation as Pitch tensed below me, a groan cut off in a hoarse throat...

"Got it!" I shouted to no one but myself, and my fingers instantly hyper-extended and flexed, everything suddenly happening in one massive jerk. Smoke suddenly sprung into my hand, my arm flung backwards as I threw it behind me like a piece of garbage, Pitch convulsed below me and, in less than a second, I felt a body slam into mine.

I barely had time to lose my breath before Pitch's arm instantly latched around me in a kind of death-grip, his chest slamming into me and tight, arms pressing me to it firmly and securely as trembling wracked his body and subsequently my own. I was in a sort of daze for just a moment, one second ripping the memory of his tragedy from his mind and the next in his tight hold, wrapping his arms so hard around me and pressing me to him as if I were going to go anywhere, as if I'd ever even think of that.

No, I was in a daze for only a moment. The next, I was wrapping my own arms around him, my left hand instantly moving into an old thing of ours, something he did that I could almost feel on my own back as I repeated it on him. As one arm held him as tightly as he held me, the other trailed my fingertips softly and slowly up his spine, all the way up to his neck, and as I did this his own head fell until I could feel his face in the crook of my neck, chest flexing a bit away from me in order to lean down.

I felt a whole different kind of shiver as I felt his nose pressed to the skin between my shoulder and neck, felt his face pressed there, hot and with something wet that could have been tears, but I didn't want to think of Pitch crying. I just couldn't. That was too terrible. A different kind of goosebumps rose on my neck as I felt his breathing on my collarbone until the sweater began, jagged and heaving breaths that I remembered making myself the night where everything was switched.

I trailed my fingers down his spine, but part of me was caught too off-guard to notice. Yes, that part of me where instinct took over was still there, but the panic had gone and was replaced with just how...not strange...uncommon it was. Yes, uncommon would have to work for now. Uncommon to hear Pitch making these noises. Uncommon to feel him like this. This man who was strong, who was my anchor, who held together his mask of collectiveness and strength like no other I'd ever seen before, a man of complete togetherness...now like this.

To feel him shaking-no, trembling, to feel him trembling in my arms, to hear his ragged and pained breathing, to feel him in such a compromising position as he was in now...it wasn't exactly uneasy. It wasn't strange, and it wasn't uncomftorble. In fact, despite myself, I almost liked the feel of his face where it was. I almost liked caring for him as he had for me on countless occasions. I almost liked feeling him holding me so tight, to feel truly anchored to him in this darkness. And...I almost began to like the odd feeling it erupted from my gut.

It was something warm, but not like what North caused. It was something tight, but nothing at all like fear or anxiety. It was...undescribable. Before it had been mysterious, a foregin feeling in my chest and stomach. Now, though, that I had almost come to accept it as an emotion...it was almost pleasent. And I knew it was from Pitch. Somehow, I knew. And it made me want to do this longer. Made me want to hold him, to get closer to him if it were even possible, made me want to pull him to me and hold him here, tell him everything was okay.

It made me want to care for him in a way he'd done for me...but something else was in it, something else I still couldn't place, and urge I couldn't think of. All I knew was that, in this moment, it suddenly took over and I found myself not closing my eyes to block out the darkness, but because I was relaxed, because I wanted to focus on him and him alone.

"Shh...Pitch, it's okay. I'm here, you're alright...it was just a bad dream." I whispered to him, fingers trailing up and down his spine, reaching up to his neck and just into his hairline before trailing back down. I knew how long it took me to calm down from a nightmare, and Pitch's recovery time made me look like a complete wimp. In a matter of seconds his breathing evened out, minutes later his hands relaxing on my back and pressing hot palms into my spine, quickly followed by his trembling easing until it stopped completely.

"You have to make me look like a wimp, don't you?" I whispered, continuing to trail my fingers up and down his spine. He didn't offer any response, but I remembered one thing from waking from a nightmare like that, and it was that I enjoyed listening to Pitch talk without asking for any answers. Just listening to his voice as I tried to recover, to get my mind back into one piece. And so I talked about the only thing that I thought might possibly calm him over whatever he had just been through. It may not work, and it may just highlight my shit social skills. But something told me it was right. Something told me I remembered that girl for a reason.

"I know who that is." I said softly and matter-of-factly, pausing when I felt Pitch tense a bit. I took in a breath and went on as if nothing were wrong, fingers still trailing, "That girl, I saw her when I was unconcious just now, and I remembered where I saw her from. I mean, it was centuries ago, so I was surprised that I even remembered her, but I guess it was kind of a special meeting now that I think about it.

"See, it was before I'd met you, and maybe five or six years after MiM took me from my life. I sensed this giant wave of tragedy in this small village, and so I went there to try and take away what I could without disrupting anything. I mean, I expected there to be some massive freaking fire at a nursery or some shit, I mean this tragedy was _pugnant_, so I expected something big. But when I got there, there was nothing. It was just like every other night.

"So I followed this smell until I got to a small kinda cottage near the center of the village, and when I walked in I saw this boy, a little younger than my age, and he was holding back tears while he talked to a man that looked like a doctor in those times. I wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying, feeling real close to the tragedy, but I saw that the doctor's face was really grim and apologetic and the boy was about to cry. He looked like his entire life had been taken from him.

"So of course I expected something terrible in the next room where the smell of tragedy was coming from. And when I walked in...I guess that's what I got. I mean it wasn't terrible in the sense of gory or anything, just..." I paused, feeling that he was listening, his calm breath ghosting over my chest and sending a wave of goosebumps across, I shifted my chin over the back of his shoulder and continued, fingers brushing up his spine,

"...There was this little girl laying in bed with this hand-knit blanket over her. The window above her was drawn open and there was this little candle flickering on a table next to her bed, and I remember that all I could think was how beautiful this girl was. She couldn't have been more than maybe nine or ten, but damn she would have been some woman. Her skin was beautiful and looked like those dolls little girls would get for their birthdays, a little pink on her cheeks and long eyelashes with petal-pink lips, everything.

"She had this little button nose and long, shiny black hair. I mean, she didn't look half bad to me, but whatever the doctor had told the boy probably meant she was really sick or something. The tragedy was so strong at this point that I assumed she was dying right there, but she just looked so...strong, ya know? Like she wasn't afraid. She wasn't even frowning...

"I'd slipped through the door and shut it really quietly so the other two wouldn't notice, but she still looked over when I turned around. I assumed I'd probably shut the door too loud, woken her up or something, but instead of turning back she gave me this stunningly innocent smile, like the room literally lit up, and she spoke...to me." The memory itself made my voice soften, and I swore I was almost smiling myself. I couldn't believe I'd even forgotten in the first place. Of course, that's why I remembered so easily. That's who she was...to me, at least.

"She said, 'Aren't you cold wearing just that?', and I couldn't respond. Before this, no one saw me, and I'd only run into maybe two or three spirits before. I mean, to have someone look at you after that long, to have this girl talk to me, I was speechless. She kept smiling and moved one of her hands in a beckoning kind of movement, and said, 'Come over and sit beside me, won't you? I'd like to have someone to talk to. They won't let anyone in but Benji, and he's awfully fun, but it would be nice to talk to a girl. You can speak, can't you?'

"And all I remember thinking was that this girl had a beautiful voice, but it was a little weak, and it was the only sign that anything was wrong with her other than the foreboding smell of tragedy before death. That, and that she was the first child who ever saw me. This girl, this beautiful little girl who was about to die and yet could still look this brave...she knew tragedy. She believed in tragedy. And yet she was still so innocent.

"So I broke a little rule of mine. I walked over and sat with her. I mean, I did feel kind of bad at the same time, you know? The tragedy was only pugnant because it couldn't be reversed. She was so close to dying that, even if I removed the tragedy, she still wouldn't have survived. The tragedy was what it meant, and I still don't know what it meant.

"So I did all I could for that little girl. I sat next to her on the bed, facing her, and she asked what my name was. I told her it was 'Astrid' and she smiled again, saying 'Oh I love the name Astrid. It reminds me of the stars, and I miss the stars. But you're just as lovely as they are, has any boy ever told you that?' And man, I laughed pretty hard at that. She was a funny kid, and her laugh was so beautiful too... I guess we talked for a long time, because I'd gotten there just after sunset and at this point it was well into night.

"Finally, after telling her about the markings on my arms and who exactly I was, she leaned back onto her two pillows and asked, 'Astrid, you're here because you knew I was going to die, aren't you? You felt that tragedy.' I didn't know what to say for a second, and considered lying to her, but just the pure look of bravery on this kid's face...like she knew. She knew and it wasn't really a question, just the beginning to a new conversation.

"But man, it made me _sad _to think about this kid going. I mean, my first believer and she's gotta die? But there was nothing I could do, so I nodded and said that yeah, yeah I was. She kept smiling and nodded, looking out the window into the night. 'Benji keeps telling me that I'm not, but I know he's just saying that because he doesn't want me to go. We're quite good friends, you know. Have been since I was very young, since my father took me here to this village.'

"She paused there and then looked at me with a curious kinda face, and asked, 'I'm not sure what happened to my father. He's gone now, and my mother passed long ago, before my father had to leave for a honorable duty... Where do you think he went?' I said that I didn't know, but maybe she'd find him after she found her mother. And she kinda smiled at that and I held her hand.

"We were silent for a few moments after that, and I knew that she was going to go soon, really soon, but she spoke right before. She said, 'If you ever meet my father, please tell him that the people here took very good care of me, and that I ate every pea for every supper. I think he'd like to hear that.'. I told her I would...but she was already still. And she was still smiling, but I just knew. And damn, it broke my heart..." I finished in a bit of a quieter whisper than before, fingers trailing up and down, thumb on my other hand tracing across the muscle on his back.

"What did you do then?" Pitch asked, feeling his mouth move dangerously close to my neck as he spoke his first words, his throat still a bit hoarse and gravelly. There was a level of something else in it, as well. Something bittersweet. Melancholy. I let myself compose before I answered, shrugging slightly so as not to move his head too much.

"I held her hand for awhile and then I closed her eyes for her, and I think I kissed her forehead and left. Needless to say, I took the night off." I explained, and then asked before I could consider, "So how did _you_ know the kid?" He paused for a moment, and a silence passed as he took in a breath and his hands tensed a bit on my back, curling in and then out, pressing his palms a bit further in. I shifted so that I could hold him a bit more comftorbly, resting the side of my face on his shoulder, his face still in the crook of my neck. My eyes still closed, still focusing.

Finally, he spoke, but his voice held a weight in it, a tired, painful weight.

"She was my daughter."

I stopped and re-listened, trying to tell myself that what I'd heard wasn't true, trying to remind myself to breathe again and my heart to beat again, because everything stopped. A terrible dread dropped in my gut, and I wondered how in the hell I hadn't put two-and-two together yet. I knew. I knew how Pitch had become what he was, it was part of one hell of a heart-to-heart as we sat in the snow one random evening. I knew that he'd had a child...but he'd never told me details of that. Never even said if it were a boy or a girl. And I hadn't pressed.

I dropped my face into his shoulder and groaned, saying as I cursed myself inwardly,

"Shit Pitch, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I just saw her and...I am so, so sorry." He nodded a bit stiffly, and where I expected him to pull away his arms actually wound tighter around me, movements a bit stiff and almost desperate.

"You didn't know, you were trying to help...just, don't stop, please." He said, shifting his back a bit. I didn't understand for a moment, but then it clicked and I softly began to move my hand again, up and down, my thumb across his back. There was a long silence after that, and I was wondering if we were just going to leave it as was...but then he spoke again, and this time it was my turn to listen.

He spoke without being asked, as though he just had to get it out, as though he had to say it.

"I told you that when I was...when I was Pitchiner, when I had to guard the captured fearlings without stop, without reprieve, my sole solace was in looking at a picture of my child in a locket? That the fearlings used that to lure me to release them from their cages by impersonating my child...that they then overtook me, and Pitch Black was born. I told you that...

"That girl was my child, and everything you've said about her is true. She was beautiful. She was strong, and innocent, and braver than any man I'd ever met. When I learned that I was to watch the fearlings, when I took the job no one else could handle, I took my daughter and her only friend, an orphan boy named Benji, to a remote village on the closest planet I could find to where MiM's parents had been, before they passed. I wanted them to watch over her in return for my services.

"It was only a few years later that I was born into this, and for a period of time I'd forgotten everything about who I'd been. When the Man in the Moon's parents passed he had no clue of their promise to me, only that he had suddenly been burdened with this duty to wage war against me and all of the terrible things in the world. I had destroyed many planets, but the one he protected most, the one I was not allowed to touch was this one. Earth. Possibly his parents had told him not to, or maybe it was a stroke of luck..." He paused, and I was silent, allowing him to go on.

He took a few minutes, but continued.

"What you saw was my worst memory, and the only one I am not able to wash away other than the memory of you. You are well aware of the Dark Ages, when I was at the height of my power and before any of the Guardians came trodding in...and one day, I came across that village again. I didn't remember it, nor who was inside of it. And, possibly by fate, I ended up in her bedroom.

"And...and she saw me...and she screamed...but in her eyes, in her eyes I knew she recognized me, and I could feel the shadows around me and she saw them and...and I _remembered_, Astrid, I remembered who she was and..." He began to tremble again, his hands instantly clenching fistfuls of sweater on my back, taking in a strangled breath as I instantly wrappped my arms tighter around him.

"Pitch, you don't have to-"

"And she _screamed_, she screamed 'Daddy!', and I knew that was me. I knew I was her father, and what I almost did, and then I left. I just _left her_, after everything I never even came back to explain, to tell her that...to tell her how much I..." His voice broke, and I felt a sudden sob wrack through him, and he released a sound so horrifically tragic, so broken, that I felt my own heart break. I felt a stinging in my eyes, a lump in my throat. Because I knew what he was trying to say.

"And I never told her 'goodbye'..." He whispered in a wrecked voice, body feeling weak as he fought to keep control, as he breathed raggedly again, and as I continued to rub his back as best I knew how. I knew that if my eyes were open I'd be crying, because I knew exactly what that felt like. But tears were his to shed. I was there to keep him safe.

"Shhh..." I whispered as he trembled in intervals as he tried not to, turning my head and whispering into his hair, "You know what? She did know it was you...but from what I saw in that little girl's eyes as she talked about you, she wasn't thinking of the man you'd become. She wasn't thinking of the Boogeyman. To her, you were never Kozmotis Pitchiner or the Boogeyman.

"You were always 'Daddy'. That never changed. Not ever. And I think that even if she knew you now, that still wouldn't change. I think she'd see you, she'd see the sarcastic jerk you are, and she'd still call you 'Daddy'...of course, she'd probably be a teenager, so she'd probably call you 'Dad' or 'Old man' or something. I don't know. She seems like she'd have an attitude, someone I'd hang out with."

"I would _never _allow her to 'hang out' with you." He said firmly, and I chuckled, which turned into a laugh of relief, which turned into a laugh just because he was still such an ass. And, despite everything, he began to chuckle, too. And together we laugh/chuckled about absolutely nothing, and we looked absolutely ridiculous, but damnit we couldn't give less of a shit! It just felt good to laugh when we had no right to, to be happy when everything told us we shouldn't be. We were defiant little fucks like that. We were screwed up like that. I peeked my eyes open a bit, just long enough to see that darkness completely gone, now just a dim room with the nightmare sleeping in the corner, the butterfly curled up against its flank. I closed my eyes.

"Look at us." I said while I laughed, shaking my head.

"What?" Pitch asked, still chuckling. I continued to trail my fingers up and down his spine as I smiled and said,

"We are two of the most broken people in this universe, and we're laughing about nothing." He gave a deep, happy little chuckle, one I felt his back and the breath across my collarbone, one that made me smile and lean more into him.

"Not broken, dear. Just a bit bent." He mummbled, and suddenly he sounded tired, as if he hadn't slept at all since he'd brought me here.

"How long has it been since you slept? And I don't count what I walked into sleeping." I asked, and he shrugged a bit lucidly and sleepily, like a tired child, and that amused me to no end.

"I slept for one hour about an hour after I saved your life. So about two days." He mummbled, and I choked a bit on air.

"TWO DAYS?!" I demanded, and he growled in irritation, pressing his hands into my back.

"Don't shout, brat. And yes, you needed sleep. Don't worry, nothing has happened since. Nothing at all. It's quite infuriating, but MiM wouldn't tell us a thing until he could arrive here. Why he couldn't be here until today I haven't a clue. I suppose he's far too busy. North couldn't even get a messege into him until this morning." Pitch muttered, and I restrained myself from shouting again, thinking that I had gone through enough, and now MiM was coming HERE?

No, I restrained myself, saying that I could deal with that much later. I had more questions at the moment.

"You couldn't talk to him because it was a New Moon. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't do anything. He was, in every sense, gone." I explained, and Pitch paused a moment. Then, in one massive exhale, he shook his head.

"That explains a bloody lot." He muttered grumpily, and I nodded, too. But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about. There was one more thing I had to know before I forced this man to sleep, and then got some rest myself. I was exauhsted when I'd woken up, and coupled with this...well, I was surprised I hadn't fallen asleep yet.

"Pitch...how exactly did you save me? All I remember was blood, pain, and you screaming 'Stop'. What happened after you found me?" I asked, and he relaxed his hands, one sliding upwards a bit and leaving a trail of what felt like static on my back, relaxing me with that one movement.

"There was no way to patch up the wound and have your body supply you with blood in time. You needed a source of yourself to patch the wound, and so..." He paused, and then shifted his head a bit, a trail of shivers running down my neck at feeling his face on my skin. "...So I got the idea to use your smoke, seeing as how that is technically a part of you. It was an idea I honestly did not expect to work. We would have to combine your smoke and my nightmare sand in just the right increments in order to give it enough substance and yet keep it mostly your smoke...

"In certain terms, we used Hal's trick against him." Pitch explained, and I paused, face in his shoulder and a certain feeling of anxiety and understanding running through me. That was why it was hard to breathe. That's why the nightmare had such a strong hold on me. That's what felt off.

"I don't want to look, do I?"

"Probably not now. Rest first, regain your strength before that meeting. We'll deal with everything after we sleep." He offered, and his words had never sounded better.

"Sounds good to me." I mummbled, and was just about to move away. But apparently Pitch had other plans.

"Oof!" I exclaimed as, quite suddenly, Pitch held me tighter and fell backwards, taking me with him and making me fall completely onto his chest without warning, the air leaving my lungs.

"Goodnight." He said simply, and I took in a deep breath before struggling, pushing at his chest and shouting,

"Jackass! Let me the hell go!"

"Stop shouting."

"Not until you let me go! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Sleeping."

His grip was stronger than I'd expected, holding me to him with an iron-like strength as I tried to wiggle out, only managing to maneuver myself so that I faced the door instead of him, Pitch shifting to his side in order to get a better hold. I finally gave up and huffed, crossing my arms as I suddenly felt him shift behind me, in a way I did not expect.

He pressed his chest to my upperback, wrapped his arms around my midsection in a more comftorble, less steel-like way, and his legs brushed up to mine, feeling the smooth fabric of his pants on my bare skin. He was close to me, almost no space between us, and that feeling, that damned feeling...it made me like it. Like it in a dangerous way. In a way that wanted more. That wanted to hold him back. That didn't allow me to think of this as how extremely odd it really was, because it was odd. Because Pitch and I didn't behave like this...because something had changed. It changed a long time ago.

And I was terrified. And I liked feeling his heat against me. And I knew this was strange. And I didn't care. I felt something in my chest, in my heart that wasn't whatever had replaced skin and muscle and blood. It was something that had been there before. Something that had been there longer than I knew.

"...Pitch?" I whispered, feeling a heat across my face. I felt his head move, felt his lips against my ear, and felt a shiver run down my neck. Because I liked this a bit too much. Because it was terrifying and wonderful. Because it was Pitch.

"You asked me why I would keep a brat like you around. You asked me why I kept coming back." He whispered, his breath against my face as, despite myself, I turned a bit into it, just a bit.

"Y-yeah..." I whispered back. He shifted, holding me closer, almost nuzzling his face into the side of mine, lips brushing my ear as he spoke words that, after everything began to change, after everything, almost made it all real. His words finished the change. I didn't know how, didn't know why. But when he spoke next, his words changed something.

"Because you make me happy."

My body turned and I faced him, his face mere inches from mine and a bit higher up on the pillow. I felt his arms around me, felt his heat wrapping around me like a blanket. Like the darkness I liked, the kind that kept everything out. It was just the two of us. It was just him and me, and suddenly it was just his eyes, golden and silver in the darkness, and his slight frown, and his scent of night and books and darkness.

And it was the final releasing of the rest of my sanity. Because I knew what we were going to have could never include sanity.

I pressed a hand to his chest, to the exposed part where his robe didn't touch, felt the firm muscle slightly move as he breathed. I never once looked away from his eyes as I trailed my hand up, feeling across his neck, across the curve of his jaw, lightly tracing onto his cheek, my thumb making an arch, smooth and warm skin under my hand.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, because I suddenly knew what the odd feeling wanted me to do. That urge that I could never have placed before now seemed unavoidably clear. And I was scared out of my mind, and then I realized that Pitch must know. He knew fear. He knew I was afraid and what I was afraid of...but I didn't feel embarrased. I didn't feel self-concious.

Because in his eyes, as they looked down at me with a frown, I saw it too. I saw the fear. I saw the knowing of the utter insanity of this moment. I saw Pitch's fear of what he wanted. I also saw the odd emotion. It had a look that I didn't know I could place, a look I couldn't distinguish...but it was there. I couldn't describe it, but it was there. And I felt like everything we'd ever been through was leading to this, like some shitty romance story.

His arms wrapped tighter, and I felt my pulse pick up. Because suddenly his face was even closer, and suddenly his hand was between my shoulderblades in almost a steadying movement, and I realized something completely ridiculous. Pitch had done this before. I most definitly had not.

I saw a smile curve onto his lips, heard him chuckle in amusement as he clearly read my fear, and this time I was definitly embarrased. I glared at him though my hand remained on the side of his face, hating that smug little look he got as he lowered his head a bit, eyes still not leaving mine. And I tried to shove down that fear that Pitch knew what the hell he was doing, but I couldn't, especially not as he angled his face to the point where I just had to lean up an inch, a fraction of and inch...

"I hate you."I whispered breathlessly. And he smiled.

"I hate you, too."

Two things happened after he whispered that, feeling his warm breath against my face, close enough to feel his heart, knowing he knew my fears. Two things. I closed my eyes, and I leaned up until I found him. And at first, I wondered why I'd never done this before. Then I realized instantly why.

Had I ever done this with anyone other than Pitch, it couldn't have felt the same. Never. Because I knew, though I'd never done this before, that this was entirely Pitch, that this was a way and a feeling that was uniquely his in this aspect of his skills and his person. Because no one could have made that thing happen in my chest with just one kiss, like a thousand lights had been turned on and something wonderful had happened. Because this was meant to be done with Pitch. No one else. Never again. Not after this.

His lips were soft and skilled, pressing down just enough against mine to make me almost instantly want more, feeling like a teenager going through hormones again. My face was hot, my heart was pounding, and my pulse was racing. I pressed a bit further, fingers sliding back and lacing into his hairline, almost thankful to feel his hand press harder against my back, as if he felt the same way. At least my amature wasn't showing too bad yet.

I'd seen couples kiss before, both simple pecks and full-on makeout sessions. I knew to open my mouth a bit, and so I did, closing it as I pressed further. A relief fell over me as, almost instantly, as if he had been waiting for me to move first, Pitch did the same. By now my heart was long past hammering, and I didn't even know what it was doing now. Couldn't care less. Hell, this could give me a damn heart attack for all the shits I gave.

But, as thankful as I was that I'd done this, I instantly realized just how much more skilled Pitch was than I. The way he moved was with confidence, the speed experianced. I wasn't sure just how differently you could kiss, it all seemed basically the same to me, but apparently there was a way. In fact, many ways, and as I felt his tongue gently brush against my bottom lip, not only did my entire face grow hot, but I also felt fear.

Fear, because I had no fucking clue what to do. I felt him chuckle against my mouth as he swiped his tongue across my top lip, and he didn't leave my mouth as he whispered against my lips in a tone just a bit cocky, but mainly soothing,

"Hush now, let me show you." I was going to reply with something sharp, but he swallowed my words in an instant. His mouth pressed gently to mine again, and this time his tongue slid down over my own, tasting instantly coffee, night, and something uniquely Pitch. And, even as he took over, as he licked back to my lips and then over my tongue again, across my lower teeth and back to my lips, I swore that I'd find a way to make this into a flavor of hot chocolate. That'd be kind of hard to explain to North, though...

Until then, I'd do this. And that wasn't too bad.

Eventually I got a basic idea of what he was doing, and I pulled a bit with the hand in his hair to press us closer together before I started repeating his movements. Once he realized what I was doing, he retracted a bit, moving and letting me very slowly try and copy his movements. It was exactly what one would imagine a first kiss would be like. Clumsy, nervous, and what I imagined was probably a bit shakey.

But Pitch didn't complain. In fact, he pulled me closer and hummed in the back of his throat, a rumbling noise that made me lose my breath. Just something that small, and he could affect me like that. Shit, I was just a hormonal teenager, wasn't I? Before I could finish that thought, Pitch suddenly pressed much harder against my lips, as if drinking it all in, before quickly kissing my lower lip, and then leaving a lingering, close-mouthed kiss, one that lasted minutes.

Finally one of us needed to breathe, and it sure as hell wasn't gonna be me, so he slowly pulled away, only to press a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth. And then we simultaniously breathed out. And as we did, we opened our eyes and looked at each other. And we laughed.

"I hate you." He whispered as he gently kissed my nose.

"I hate you, too." I whispered, smiling and licking my lips, still faintly tasting him there. He lightly brushed his fingertips down my spine and nodded, eyes slowly closing and opening in a sleepy kind of way. He leaned down and pressed his mouth into my hair, kissing it and then tucking me into him, one hand pressed to the back of my neck as my hand moved from his face downwards, wrapping around the edge of his robe, his other arm wrapping over my side and tightly anchoring me to him.

I nuzzled my face into his neck, hearing him exhale as I did, the soft skin there warmer than his chest and almost made so that I could comftorbly rest my face there. And it felt right. All of it did. The slow sleepiness that came in the aftermath of a pounding heart. The special tingling of my lips as I still tasted him there. The heat he gave off as his fingers trailed to the back of my head, lacing his fingers through and sending a feeling of absolute safety through me. It was just us. We were safe that way.

"Pitch." I whispered as I heard his breathing begin to grow deeper.

"Hm?" He asked sleepily, in a way that was kind of adorable, not that I'd ever tell him. I pressed a kiss to his throat, earning a hum of approval, and whispered against the skin there,

"I might hate you a little less now." I could feel the smile in his words as he whispered back,

"I hate you a bit less, as well. Now go to sleep, you little brat."

I'd always slept very well alone, in places as isolated as possible. I had no companions, no one anywhere near me, not even a butterfly. I lived my life in complete isolation...but I wasn't sure that, after this, I'd ever be able to fall asleep the same again. I wasn't sure sleep could ever come as easily without Pitch, if at all. And that, above all, was the most terrifying thing. Because that was depending on someone. That was trusting they would never, ever leave...

"If you think that I am ever letting you go again, you, my dear, are horribly mistaken. Now sleep before I suffocate you." Pitch muttered irritatedly, shifting until I was pressed more firmly into him, as if asserting his point. And I felt my entire chest relax, then my back, neck, and eventually, and possibly for the first time in my entire existance, I felt myself lean against someone else and trust them to not fall.

Pitch just held me tighter. And I let his heartbeat lull me into sleep. It was just us. No one else.

I didn't know how I could ever live any other way.


	21. If Romeo Lost Juliet

_-Basically a chapter to set up the last few chapters. Should be only two more after this one, with the next one being majorly fluff until the conclusion. Thank you all for sticking with it this long, and enjoy.-_

_~Pitch Black~_

Normally, I'd complain about how Astrid could, regardless of how many hours of sleep she'd gotten or the time of day, sleep like a hibernating animal. Honestly, she'd slept for two days, it was mid-morning, and still I had woken up before her, leaving me to piece togething in my exauhsted mind why exactly I'd woken up with her and I tangled up like teenagers in bed. Yes, normally I would complain about that. Right at the moment, though, complaining was the farthest thing from my mind. In fact, I was more content than I'd ever remembered being.

She was curled up to my chest, her face half-buried in the robe with one hand lightly grabbing the fabric, the other hand curled under my pillow. Her face was so serene, so calm, completely oblivious of anything that had or would happen when she woke up, completely lost in the moment and looking every bit of safe that she deserved to be. Something about it, about how she looked, made a warmth run from my chest and into a slight smirk, one arm wrapped around her waist and keeping her to me, the other reaching forward and lightly brushing away strands of hair.

She didn't so much as mutter as I trailed my fingers down her cheek, the back of my knuckles running every-so-lightly over her lips. And, as they did, I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to focus on the feel, the taste of it all, of what had happened. Most would prefer their kissing partner be experianced as they were, if not slightly more so. I thought this was desirable, as well.

Until Astrid kissed me, and then I realized how terribly wrong I was. Because there was a sort of innocence, of adoration about it. And possibly I was just too used to protecting this girl, to attempting to teach her things that normally ended miserably, that not only did the teaching come natural, but the outcome was quite the pleasent surprise. I leaned my head down and pressed my lips to her forehead, knowing that was all I could allow myself at the moment. She needed sleep.

I never would have thought that I'd ever want to have something from Astrid so terribly bad as I wanted this. Before it had happened, I could still have resisted. I could have waited. I wasn't obsessed with it, I didn't feel the need for it like a teenager might. I was a full-grown man, aged past anything this planet could name. I did not fall into the pressure of hormones...for now. Because before I hadn't known exactly what it was that I had been resisting. Now I'd had some, and it soon became a drug.

Though I could imagine the onslaught of fury I'd recieve if I woke her up merely to kiss her again. As if she were making it easy to resist. She curled again, shifting in the sweater far too large for her and moving up, nuzzling her face into my neck, hiding her face from me as she exhaled long and slow, her breath drifting over my skin and lips brushing my collarbone. And I exhaled in irritation.

"You will be the absolute death of me, do you know that you little brat?" I asked. My only response was her silence and light breaths across my skin. It was odd, truly, to think that I hadn't thought of Astrid this way at one time not too long ago. There was always something there, but I just took her as a constant companion in which I shared more than anyone. Someone I understood and who in turn understood me.

But she had always been just a headstrong kid who had been put through more than she deserved to have done to her. She was truly a spectacle. But, until this whole mess happened, that view hadn't changed, and I wondered, had none of this happened, would it still have on its own? Was this just a gentle push, or if we were never forced into this would I have come to this realization?

I thought of when MiM spoke to me, when I'd admitted it to myself simply because I found denial petty and shameful. But at the same time, I felt as if that had set this into full swing.

I hadn't known it was going to happen. Didn't know when it did. And I wasn't quite sure what was going to come out of it. Like everything between me and her, it had always been there, and just was. It required no explanation and no force other than admitting it to ourselves.

I laced my fingers through her hair and looked off into the darkness, thought of her and all we had been through, thought of centuries of struggle and isolation. I wondered how I had never seen this coming, and at the same time how it could ever have happened in the first place. As if we weren't rare enough cases. As if I deserved her...

Because, truly, that was what astonished me the most. I had kept my word, I had given her a choice. And she chose me. This girl that had gone through so much at such a young age, this girl that looked into the face of the Man in the Moon and spat, this girl that was so strong and gentle all at once, she had chosen a man condemned to shadows. She had comforted his daughter in her dying moments. She had seen me in such a state of vunerability and acted as if she didn't care that I was supposed to be the Nightmare King. She just acted as if she truly would rather take my pain than let me feel it.

Maybe for a moment she had just forgotten we weren't supposed to have any definable connection. Maybe she forgot that she was this force of nature, and I was merely the Boogeyman. But she had locked me with those eyes, looking right into me, and there was no way she could have forgotten anything. She had made this choice. This girl that talked of my daughter and did not make me hurt from it, when before the memory could break me so easily. This girl that she had trusted with her final words to me...

And suddenly a warm smile found its way back onto my face. She had always been such a good judge of character. Possibly that is why she trusted Astrid when no one else would. I always imagined that, had I ever the urge to spend my life with another, I would have Seraphina pass judgement on them first, gain her blessing.

And, even after all these years, after all I had done, I had still recieved it.

_~Astrid~_

"Oh, for heaven's sake, wake up! It's not as if you've been sleep deprived. Teenagers, honestly, I don't know how you can sleep for two days and then another four hours on top of that- oh, get _up!_"

"No. Can't make me." I mummbled into his chest, clinging onto him like some spider monkey as he huffed and squirmed. To be honest, if he wanted to shake me off he could, and I think he knew I knew that. Hell, the man could dissolve into shadows, and in the dim room there were nothing but. But I think he was just as reluctant to move as I was, if not burdened with the responsibility of actually getting me to this meeting. He huffed loudly and rested a hand down on my lower back, him laying on his back and my head on his chest, which was a pillow I was not yet ready to leave. For being a twig, the guy was comfy.

"Astrid, the way I see things we have two very unfavorable options. One is that we actually wake up and try not to look like million-year-old, hormonal teenagers and go to that damned meeting with that damned man to talk about that damned incident. Two is that we stay here for a few moments longer and all of the Guardians, including MiM himself, come bursting in and catch us in this quite compromising position." He mused, though doing nothing to make me chose the lesser of the two evils as he trailed his finger tips lightly from my lower back upwards, and then down again.

The soothing gesture without the taint of panic, now just as something affectionate, something absent-minded, brought a whole new feeling to it. It wasn't necissairy, it wasn't in a moment of turmoil. It was in a moment of wanting to touch, to relax, to silently explain things that couldn't be said with words. I groaned and nuzzled my face into his collarbone, grumbling as I pulled myself from sleep,

"I'd love to see the look on MiM's face."

"Yes, that would be quite lovely. But let's not forget the un-ending conversation with Tooth, the awkward explanation to Frost and the Sandman, North and whatever he would do being highly unpleasent, and let's not forget Aster. He may not have fully come to grips with anything, but there had always been that slightly territorial side to him that hold a protective nature over you. Besides, my neck hurts from you shoving your face into it all night. You truly want to deal with my complaining?"

"...I still hate you."

"Lovely. Now get up, we're already five minutes late." He mused, finally taking my arms back and grumbling, feeling disoriented knowing that I'd slept for so long and yet it was only around 3 o' clock. Everything nowdays kinda seemed to happen either in slow-motion or way too fast, and I was waiting for it all to finally fall back into balance. Then again, my life didn't exactly _have _a balance anymore, did it? Not after what happened just a few hours ago, not with the awkward feeling surrounding me as Pitch slid out of bed on his side.

"Why didn't you wake me up ten minutes ago?" I asked, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. Something in my chest pounded, and I wasn't too sure it was my heart. It was...nerves? Fear? Was this how people felt normally in relationships? But Pitch and I were most definitly NOT in a relationship. That was something I was certain of. Nothing between us would ever be set in stone with a chisel and words...

...But that also made it quite difficult to really pinpoint what I was feeling, and why a nervous fear twisted in my gut. Why it felt like I just wanted to go back to sleep, why I didn't want to go out there and see the others, why...why I wanted everything to go back to normal and at the same time was terrified of going back to isolation, going back to the same routine of tragedy, nightmares, and fear. Why I didn't want to see Aster. Why I didn't want to see MiM...

I felt a finger ghost under my chin, tilting my head up as I looked at Pitch in mild surprise, almost completely forgetting he was there in the first place. He frowned at me and his eyes searched my entire face, gold and silver flickering in an almost observatory manner, as if looking for something he couldn't quite name. He quirked up an eyebrow and I huffed in irritation, just sitting there while he looked at me in silence, feeling my temper already on a short fuse.

"See something you like?" I snapped sarcastically, and to my surprise, Pitch moved his hand to the side of my face and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead that made something twist in my gut, something akin to longing and a typical teenage nervousness that I'd hoped I'd grown out of around year four-hundred.

"Not exactly." He whispered tiredly, and I shot him a glare. He caught it and rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh and correcting himself, "Oh honestly, that is the farthest thing from what I meant. I was talking about that bit of fear that seems to be quite popular in your mind recently." I paused, shrinking back a bit and for once almost wishing Pitch couldn't read my fears, knowing that he could read them better than I could sometimes.

He must have seen something else in my eyes, because he rolled his eyes again and pushed my chin up with his knuckle, something that was starting to get a bit irritating.

"Oh please, as if it's anything embarrassing. No, I wouldn't _tell_ you if it were humiliating. Blackmail is too rare a weapon nowdays." He deadpanned, me glaring and shooting a fist out, catching him in the ribs. He didn't so much as flinch as he used his other hand to smack me upside the head, knuckle still under my chin as I instantly went on the offensive, reaching for the hand under my chin and holding it there as I moved forward to punch him again, a half-hearted little brawl that we had when we both needed to let off a little steam. Usually it ended with me sitting on Pitch's back and him swearing my impending demise.

This time, though, things went a little differently. As in, way differently.

Instead of just taking my punch and rolling his eyes like he normally would do, I felt the hand I held twirl, switching positions until he had a firm hold of my wrist, the other hand stopping my punch with a militaristic skill, hand clenching around it and pushing suddenly forward. I closed my eyes and let out a curse as I went flying back onto the bed, hands pinned by my shoulders and his hands grasping my wrists, not firmly enough to hurt but just enough to keep me there.

And just as suddenly as the half-hearted hostility ignited, it died down. He sighed, I rolled my eyes, and the whole spell was broken.

"You know," He said, looking down at me with a frown and serious eyes, "Your fear is nothing to be ashamed of. I feel it in all the Guardians, in almost every person that walks through me on this entire damned planet. Yours is just in such high concentration because...well, because it was a reality once." He paused as I pressed back a bit into the bed, an uncomftorble feeling of being read and vunerable twisting through my stomach, a feeling I rarely got with Pitch.

Then again, I rarely didn't know what I was afraid of.

He paused a moment, as if something dawned on him, his eyebrows drawing in before he tilted his head back a bit, only to lean forward again and press his knees outside of mine, bringing his lips just before my ear. I felt a shiver of anticipation run across my skin, trying to surpress it by shifting my shoulders against the bed, arms held in a bit of an awkward position. I could feel his head close to me, looking at the ceiling but feeling his body close to mine, an acute feeling I never thought Pitch could ever carry with him.

"Do you want to know what you're afraid of?" His breath ghosted across my ear, and I gave no response. He knew the answer, the bastard, he was just playing with me. He moved so that his face was now inches from mine, releasing one of my wrists though I kept it there, not sure where to put it. He trailed long fingers down my cheek, trying to contain a heat across my face as he looked at me with almost sad eyes. They looked across my face, down the trail he led with his fingers down to my jaw, and finally looked me in the eye.

"You're afraid that this is all too good. That it will all crumble just when you need it the most, just when you think it's all safe." He paused, and the weight of hearing exactly what I was afraid of almost paled in comparison to the look of...sadness, on his face. Because he was sad, tragically so, looking at me as if he'd failed somehow. A look I'd only seen a few other times, and even then it was passing glances, and when I'd looked back it was back to his strict and serious facade.

But now all I could see were the emotions pitted behind his eyes. As if my fear actually made him hurt, as if it affected him. And sure he could hear it...but then I remembered almost startlingly that Pitch was the only person who made sense to be affected by my fear. Because wasn't our fear the same? Weren't we too alike? Didn't we understand each other, and in return almost kinda tried to make it better by giving the other at least the assurance of our own company?...

He sighed after awhile and sat back, the sudden loss of heat uncomftorble, pushing myself up in response and pushing his chest as he knelt straddling my legs. There were gentle sounds of footsteps outside the door, a few yetis mummbling and the far-off sound of Jack's laughter and elf bells ringing. I heard North mutter something far away, heard the quiet skitter of yetis wheeling tables across the floor, still half-recovering from the New Years incident. The sound of glass being swept up.

I pressed my hand to his chest. I heard his breath slow, felt his heartbeat, and suddenly it was just us and the rest of the world kinda just stopped. It hushed. And I felt in this moment that both of us shared my fear, and only one of us knew it was irrational. I was watching my hand pressed against the center of his chest, feeling the slight indent of bone, when his hand dwarfed mine and pressed it there more firmly, as if to reassure me that, yes, he did indeed have a heart.

"What I said last night was not a case of adrenaline or getting lost in any sort of moment, Astrid." He said firmly, both our eyes looking at our hands pressed to his own chest, feeling the beat below my hand and feeling my fear almost receed, still lingering in the back of my mind and demanding to be known, but now it was easier to shove it off. At least for now, at least here.

"This is fucking crazy, you know that right?" I asked, and felt him chuckle under my hand, chest shallowing and lightly shrugging. Despite myself, I felt a smirk fall into place on my face, and his hand over mine curved in until it held mine, fingers wrapping around easily.

"What, this? I thought we were the definition of a perfect romance. A modern-day Romeo and Juliet." He mused sarcastically, and I laughed, shaking my head and nudging him forward, not hard enough to shove him off but enough to send the messege. As he moved backwards fluidly and stood, releasing my hand as I walked past, I said,

"We certainly weren't 'love-at-first-sight', and this thing's gonna last more than three days. Besides, I'm way more badass than Romeo."

It took him a few seconds to get it, and by the time he did I was already out the door.

_~Pitch Black~_

Normally I tried to discourage Astrid's constant expressive hatred towards others in moments when it was inappropriate. Now, though, I honestly couldn't care less. Because I knew that, as much as she was glaring at him, as uncomftorble as she was, all I could feel were his words. He had no clue, he couldn't. If the man was that intuitive, he might not be in this situation in the first place. But they were there, and whether he knew it or not...

...I shook myself, telling my own mind to focus on the task at hand. North sat across from me at the giant dest, a massive mosaic of the world behind him writ with the same script as was on the globe, missing everything the lights. To his side sat Tooth, his other side Sandman, Aster and MiM at the heads of the table, Astrid to my right closest to Aster and Jack to my left closest to MiM, who sat somberly as ever.

The only solace I got was the fear radiating off of him in the most beautiful of sounds. Fear of her further hatred. Fear of failing again. Fear of losing her, as if he ever had her in the first place.

"First things are first," North began, my eyes flickering over to him, hands folded patiently in my lap and waiting to see if this meeting were actually going to be productive or a waste of my time, "Astrid, how are you feeling?" I saw her shrug nonchalantly out of the corner of my eye, knowing full-well she was lying. I'd heard her in the moments when I was awake and she still slept, at times her breathing labored, at others wincing with a hand straying absent-mindedly over her sternum. It hurt. It had to.

And I wasn't the only one putting off explaining to her exactly what we had done. North, instead of pushing like usual, simply nodded and moved on.

"Very well. Would it be very difficult to explain what happened?" North asked carefully, and I looked at Astrid out of the corner of my eye. She paused a moment, processing his words, but spoke almost instantly, as if none of this bothered her. I could almost feel the pressure cap she had straining.

"He popped up behind me like some creep out of hell, shoved a gun to my chest and told me to look at the moon. There wasn't one, New Moon, blah blah blah, lots of blood, drama, sleep, here. A whole lot of it's just one big blur to me, being kind of more-than-half-dead the whole time." She spoke as if it were nothing, but there was a strain to her voice, one I picked up on instantly while the others just sat in wrapped attention.

North nodded grimley and said, hands pressed down onto the table as he motioned his head to MiM in a respectful manner,

"Yes, when Manny arrived he told me he figured it out a bit too late." Astrid muttered something that sounded like 'yeah, a fucking bit', but it was cut off as the aforementioned deity spoke, my eyes flickering over to him. It was odd, to say the least, to see a man such as him in a place such as this. Amusing, almost.

When you stripped the king of his castle and throne, took away his glittering white walls and brought him level with his subjects, he didn't seem quite so mighty anymore. In fact, looking at him now in his white robes and celestial sash, at his youthfully aged face drawn into a somber look, at his hair neat and prim, and whereas before he looked every bit of all-powerful 'Man in the Moon', now he looked merely like just that. _A man._ The glow around him was gone, and though the Guardians still held him in high regards, I could sense a shift of atmosphere that registered with one of his fears.

They knew him now. They knew he had faults. How each dealt with it I didn't know, but they knew, and now to see him like this... He had a fear of power loss. And that was the greatest things to come from this meeting so far.

"Yes...Astrid," He said, and I saw that he spoke to her whilst keeping his eyes on his hands folded together on the table before him, "I realized his plan a fraction too late. You see it is quite hard to view each spirit individually, and as I attempted I realized why I was having such struggle so suddenly, his image completely blocked from me. With everything that had been going on, I forgot the cycle. I forgot that during the period of the New Moon, where I recharge my energy once in the month, that I am cut off from this world."

"Wait, what?" Jack suddenly asked, and I looked over to see the only Guardian who could bring themselves to question MiM, only being a loyal follower of his for a short period of time. Short enough to still view him as an adult and not and idol, and therefore someone he could easily lash out against. As the other eyes fell on him he looked at MiM suspiciously, asking, "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"

"'Cuz we didn't know, eitha'." Aster's voice was slightly surprising to hear, and even more so with the slight edge in it, his face taught and the war still waging behind his eyes...though, if I truly concentrated hard enough, I could almost see one side winning favor over the other. Now, all eyes were on MiM, who was looking up and trying to maintain composure, but I could see it, see the crack in the mask, wanting to peel it back and truly show his colors, this man who feared nothing but losing his own power over others.

"..Yes, I understand that this has not been mentioned, but I did not want to worry others of a time where I would be absent, nor alert enemies of a time where you would be without help." He reasoned, his voice coaxing and persuading, but I felt a shift in the air of what previously would have happened. Previously, they would have eaten that up. They would have swallowed the bait and reiterated about how 'kind' and 'thoughtful' he was.

Now, I sensed their suspicion. I sensed their questioning. It was odd, it was slightly surprising, but...I looked over, saw Tooth's uncomftorble look over to Astrid. Astrid looked from MiM to the poor, confused Guardian and ever-so-slightly shook her head. MiM was too caught up in looking at North, who cleared his throat and continued to explain to Astrid what happened while she slept.

"Manny and I spoke once New Moon passed, said he had feeling of something very bad having happened. I explained all I could of situation, and then we discussed...Plan B." He said, almost uncomftroblly. I felt Astrid tense, felt a spike of something that wasn't fear, noticing how I could read her other emotions in ways completely different from reading the fears of others. Call it forewarning, call it spending most of my immortal life with her. Whatever it was, it was telling me that whatever North had just said brushed a raw nerve.

"Plan B?" She asked, her tone so actually controlled that it had the exact opposite affect, the air in the room suddenly stopping, an electric feel of unease growing. I saw the others tense, Aster's ears perking up, registering something the others couldn't. Astrid wasn't looking at North, more so at MiM, even she knowing those words were not ones Nicholas would normally use. She knew what mouth had put them in his head.

"What exactly was Plan A?"She asked, tone measured, tone controlled, me eyeing her both warningly and on-edge, ready to intervene. Her eyes were darker than normal, her hands tensed on her kneese, the only indicators that anything were wrong other than the glare of absolute hatred on her face. "Were we just going to wait until I got shot and hope that would satisfy him? Or were you planning on letting me take care of him on my own while you conveniantly couldn't reach us?"

The room was dead silent, but it was a silence teetering on uproar. A silence being pressed and bent until just before that moment when it broke harshly, my eyes flickering all over the room to see North forming words in his mind to deny Astrid's statement, seeing Tooth looking to and from Astrid and MiM with reassuring words on her tongue. Sandy had a finger raised, a conflicted and desperate look on his face with a pile of sand floating above his head, not yet forming an image. Jack had his grip on his staff tightened, his breathing labored as he struggled to take a side, mouth hung slightly open.

Aster's eyes held something far different from the others', though. His mouth was not open, his eyes were not flickering, and the tense signals from his ruffling fur and stick-straight ears was not from discomfort nor confliction. No, in fact, my eyes remained on Asters quite a bit longer than the others, because part of me wanted to know if he could really change this fast, or if this had been in him the whole time. If he still did not know, would he still look this furious towards his precious MiM?

His eyes were dark, his look seething and giving off the idea that he was about to rip MiM into shreds before Astrid could even speak next, and part of me...part of me almost grew a bit nervous. This was something Astrid had wanted. Something she'd waited for her whole life. For Aster to fight for her, not against her. But now, getting this, I wondered if it would not just add to her fear, that fear she had that this all was too good, that things like this didn't last for her.

"...What happened has happened. Who I was in my past does not dictate who I will be in my future. My past mistakes will not define my future decisions." MiM's words froze me to my spot, my eyes flickering over to him, feeling Astrid immediatly tense next to me, frozen under MiM's dark and unreadable gaze. "...Were those the exact words you spoke to me on the day you left?"

Astrid was silent, not even shifting in her seat, the only sound to be heard being the winds whistling outside the window. Looking back on it now, I probably should have paid more attention to those howling winds. Or at least graced the window with a glance.

"You see, Astrid," MiM said, a tone in his voice as he spoke to her that I'd never heard before, a tone of seriousness, a tone void of desperation. I fixed my eyes onto him again, seeing her reflection in his eyes. She sat with a glare, hands balled into fists in her lap where normally she'd be able to hide them in a pocket, "Regardless of reasons, regardless of what either of us did wrong unto the other, that day you chose to leave, you left me. But you never left my _protection_.

"You are and always will be one of my spirits, one of those I hold very dear. Had I known anything such as this were going to take place, I would have done what I should have done a long time ago. What I plan to do now that Hal has crossed the line." He finished, and for the first time I witnessed a speechless Astrid. Not that she was shocked, not that she was humbled. I looked over and saw her eyes narrowed, fists still clenched to the point of the knuckles turning white. Yes, she was still furious.

But she was holding it in. And for Astrid, that was something groundbreaking. My hand twitched to move over to hers, to reassure her that everything was okay and that she was doing the right thing by not exploding, that now was not the time, but I kept it still with my other hand. Now was also not the time to hint at anything, anything at all, between Astrid and me.

"Whataya talkin' 'bout?" Aster spoke up, and all eyes turned to the still slightly angry Pooka, raising a brow and asking with hands toying with a boomerang, "There's somethin' ya can do 'bout this that ya knew 'bout before?"

"Aster, es-"

"I asked Manny."

Even my own brow raised at this, mimicking the look in the faces of each Guardian, Astrid, and MiM himself. Aster, the one that I assumed was the most attatched to MiM out of the whole jolly lot, actually spoke like...well, like Astrid. Angry. Defiant. Suspicious. And suddenly, I wished I could go into the Pooka's mind, see how much he had been thinking lately.

"Aster." MiM said, cautiously but with his regal air, straightening a bit and gracefully splaying his hands out in front of him, "This is something that you must understand is not easy for me to even consider. Regardless of actions, each of you holds a piece of me, withstands a place in my own heart. You are to me as close as children, perhaps even closer."

"Ya got some pretty crook ideas of how ta treat kids, Manny. Kinda ironic, in'it?" Aster asked, and Astrid and I exchanged a shocked glance, her eyes wide as she mouthed 'wow', me giving a nod in agreement.

"Aster, vat has gotten into-"

"As I told Astrid," MiM retorted, his voice suddenly underlined with a tense defense, "What I have done in the past was a mistake, and we cannot be judged for now from who we previosly were."

"Who ya are now wasn' even gonna tell me how ya messed with my own bloody memories, so don' go an' tell me how I'm yer _child_, or how ya neva' let us all believe in lies without even steppin' in ta tell us the real story. Tha' wasn' even part a yer plan, was it? So shove the 'protection' crap an' get on with how yer gonna fix this mess." Aster's voice dripped with venom, and I wished I hadn't been so caught up in other things to take note of any change in this man. For it was truly one drastic change, leaving everyone in the room shifting uncomftrobly in shock and indecision.

And MiM was floored. He paused, and when I gathered up the being to look over at him, I saw the horror, I saw the crumbling surface, and most of all I heard the fear. A fear come to life. I could almost hum along to it, if I didn't want to stay utterly silent and listen to MiM's next words. They were delayed, MiM's hands slowly curling inwards, palms lightly facing the table, eyes crinkled, mouth partially open. He looked like a man. Not a diety. And I was sure he was beginning to realize that.

I'd lived my entire existance waiting for this moment. Waiting for the Guardians to see that their precious 'Manny' couldn't protect them forever, that he wasn't the man they thought he was...and now that I was living in this moment, now that I got to see it first hand...it was more pitying than anything. The Guardians were still there, they weren't going to lose any power nor be any less jolly. Possibly go through a grieving period, but they would be the same.

All there was was a broken and feeble man who had the curtain pulled.

"Hey guys, as much as I love this, and I mean _love _this, whatever you did to my chest is seriously starting to burn and I need a shower. You mind speeding it up?" Astrid asked, my eyes flickering down to her, specifically the area over her sternum where I knew the closed wound lay. Where I knew what it looked like. Where I knew she would see, and the resulting aftermath.

"...As I gave Hal his life back," MiM said, voice stunted, gravelly, the pain and the struggle evident in each forced word, "As I can take it away from him. It is something I am...aware of, but have never had to do. I know how. I know when it is needed. But never has anyone been deserving of it...until now. Spirits have become mischevious, spirits have had arguments, but never have they made their own armies. Never have they slipped so hard into insanity. Never have they taken such drastic steps to destroy another...

"...And before this gets out of hand, I know I must stop it. Child or no child, this is a father's sacrifice for the rest of his children..." His voice trailed off, and as it did North mercifully picked it up, his own tone serious and trying to reign in control of the situation.

"Manny and I have long talk ahead of us, but basic outline es this: Manny es not allowed to say how, for fear of information falling into wrong hands accidentally, but he will take the given spirithood from Hal. This will be done by simple bait-and-switch...just instead of switch, there will be Guardians laying in wait to protect bait, Pitch Black ready to fight off creatures that we are too weak to fight against completely, and Man in Moon taking advantage of situation to perform his..task."

It took me all of half a second to understand what he had said.

"If you think for_one bloody second_ that I will allow-!"

"Fine. Sounds good to me. I'm hitting the showers." Astrid cut me off as I seethed, my wide-eyed stare falling onto her as she pushed out from the table, standing and shaking her hands so that the sleeves would fall over them. She looked completely apathetic. But I was most assuredly not letting her off like that. I stood suddenly from my chair, the screeching of it against the wood making her wince a bit, turning half to me as I slammed a hand down on the table in fury.

"Fine? _Fine?!_ You call allowing yourself as bait '_fine_'?! This man almost killed you once, I won't let him do it again!" I shouted, not so much in anger as in desperation. North's plan, if he was truly serious, was to use Astrid to lure in Hal, a man who had splayed her blood on my hands, a man who made her look at me with that fear, that look that I remembered that still cut off my breath when I thought about it.

"Pitch, stop being over-dramatic." She muttered, shaking her head. But no. No, this was not happening. Things were not going to be as simple as this. I could feel it in my gut, in my lungs, in my heart. I could feel myself losing her again, my body remembering the pain, the horror, the longing, the explosive fear. The thought of living without her. The impossibility of it. Especially now.

"Overly-dramatic?" I asked in an accusing tone, taking a step forward, casting off the looks of the others, "If not wanting to see you dying, if not wanting your blood across my hands, if not wanting you to be taken from me is being 'over-dramatic', then fine! I'm being fucking over-dramatic! But I will in no way allow you to go through with this!" I shouted at her, shadows darting across the walls quickly as she glared defiantly, arms pulled tightly to her sides.

"First of all, it's not a New Moon anymore, I can't die! And second of all, who ever said you made my choices for me? Who ever said that you had a fucking say in this?" She spat, and I could feel the hot anger coil in my chest, could feel my breath grow short and my jaw tight. And every nerve in my body was screaming to lash out, to take her by her shoulders and shake her and scream at her how horribly I could not lose her, to make her understand that she was a part of me I was not prepared to surrender, not after so much of me had already been taken.

How whatever we had could not simply be thrown away because she didn't want to deal with a meeting. We meant more than that. She meant more than that.

"I don't have a say? I don't have..." I paused, taking in a deep, deep breath, and reigned myself in enough to rush forward and grab her by the arm, tight enough so that she could fight back but my grip wouldn't waver. Without a word, as she shouted out and tried to wrench her arm from my grip, I threw open the door behind her and drug both her and myself out.

"Hey, wait!" Tooth's voice called.

"We'll be back." I snapped loudly and sharply, slamming the door closed behind me loud and strongly enough to rattle the walls. It was all I could do to not lash out against her, or send a devistating explostion of fearlings out in a vent of pure rage. Not rage against Astrid, exactly, moreso the idea and her acceptance of it.

"Let me the fuck go!" She shouted, but I didn't release her until we were well down the hall, moving her in front of me roughly and letting go only when she harshly ripped it from my grasp, seething and glaring at me with an anger one rarely saw, even in Astrid. "What the fuck is your problem?!" She shouted, a passing yeti jumping at the sudden noise and scurrying off.

I breathed in a sharp breath to try and curb my anger, snapping out at a lower volume than her, rather not having this aired in front of the Guardians and MiM,

"My problem is you so willingly going into this when you know Hal and what he is cabable of! With what happened to you last time one would think you could at least think before being bait for him! What if he sees you and has other ways, other plans of how to hurt you?! What if he knows you survived and is planning already?"

"There's no way he knows! You weren't there, you didn't see the look in his eyes-"

"You're right, _I _wasn't there!" I shouted, and it was so sudden, so sharp, that she actually jumped and continued glaring, but with a tone of surprise, blinking and pressing her back to the wall behind her. And I should have stopped there, I should have reigned myself in and taken control of the situation...but I couldn't. I tried inwardly, and I couldn't. I couldn't stop the words that came forth, and I couldn't stop the shouting, I couldn't stop the pain and the lump in my throat. I couldn't because I was afraid that if I did she would do this, and I would lose her. And that had never been an option.

"I wasn't there when you were shot, no, but I was there to see you covered in your own blood! I was there to see the fear in your eyes because you knew, didn't you?! Didn't you?! You knew you were going to die in that moment, and you knew that the last thing I ever would have said to you would have been those words that I would carve out of my own fucking mouth to take back!

"I was there to see the only person in this world who understands everything about me and still accepts me dying on a hospital bed! I was there to know that he had almost won, that he almost took you away from me! And I was there to save you when everyone else had given up hope, and do you know what, Astrid? I did it once, but what if I can't do it again? What if I can't save you again?

"You are the only person who knows all my flaws, who knows my past and stays with me! You are the only person who can make me feel as if I haven't become some horrific monster, as if I'm not this terrible thing that my daughter remembered me as! You are _it_, Astrid, you're all that I have and all that I want! I can't lose you, not without losing the better part of myself, and you just don't _fucking care_, do you?!

"You just want to go out and get it over with, you just don't want to deal with the others and you don't want some big fuss over everything, but you know what? I _need you._" My voice broke into a hoarse whisper, the lump in my throat allowing me only to swallow painfully and take a ragged breath. And all of the anger had left Astrid's face, and all I could see was the surprise, the pain, the realization. And I still couldn't stop, because I was already imagining it, remembering the blood, her look, the feel, the slow chill of her skin, her pain, her fear, the apologetic looks...

I leaned forward and squeezed my eyes shut, hands shakily finding her forearms and holding them as tightly as I could, which wasn't tight at all, and pushed on as much as I could, my voice quiet and gravelly, hoarse and forced.

"And I seem to be the only one who cares about losing you. Because the others might be able to, but I can't. And damn you for getting this close to me, damn you for all of it, for all of this, because if I had never met you then I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't hurt this much over losing anything that isn't me, because before you that's all I cared about. Myself. But now there's you, and you dwarf everything, and I hate it, but there's nothing I can do but protect you and...and..."

"Pitch..." She whispered tragically, and I suddenly pulled her to me and firmly wrapped an arm around her waist, the other lacing my fingers through her hair and holding her to me, feeling as if I let go then she'd leave and carry this out, that I'd lose her, and every part of me was screaming to keep her here until she stopped thinking about leaving. I buried my face into her hair, throwing any dramaticism of strength and 'cool-and-calm' out the window.

"I can't lose you." I whispered, and felt her arms quickly wrap tightly around me, one hand absently performing the motion I'd done to her so many times, her fingertips running up and down my spine lightly. She couldn't reach my neck, but got as far as she could before going back down, doing all she could to soothe me when it was her who deserved it, her who was going through too much too soon.

"Pitch, you know it's our only choice. If we don't do this, who knows what Hal can think up next...and what happens if we don't have a plan by the next New Moon? Everyone can't look after me forever, be were barely able to do it once..." She paused, her voice soft and offering no branch for argument. And as she spoke, I could feel her breaking down every argument, every word, and every excuse to keep her out of this while simultaniously comforting me.

It was her 'take-no-shit' attitude and way of securing me working together in a way that only Astrid could make them. And I knew she was right. And she knew I was right. And we both knew what was going to happen, we were just far too difficult to let it happen easy. I felt her face shift and her lips pressed a chaste kiss to the hollow of my throat, whispering against it in a way that made me exhale, every part of me lightening and relaxing,

"If you think for one second that I'm going to leave you, then you're wrong."

"Don't throw my sappy words back at me."

"Don't be a drama queen."

"...I'll have to face them again, won't I?"

"You made the scene. Clean up your mess."

I took one last moment to press her to me before stepping back. And, as fate would have it, just in time, for the moment I stepped away the door to the room we had just been in flew open and North came out, one hand holding firmly to the door and a worried expression on his face. He looked at both of us not more than ten feet away, and huffed, eyebrows raised and eyes worried with a cautious look on his face. I knew what he was going to say before he said it. I knew that look all too well...

"We have problem."

Of course we do.


	22. For Today

_-Fluff. Just. Fluff. I apologize, but Astrid and Pitch needed a bit of a breather before the next chapter, which will be our last. Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

"...Jack, I don't even know what to say anymore." I deadpanned as we all stood at one massive window, each in varying levels of shivering. Tooth and her Baby Teeth all huddled together, rubbing their arms whilst still trying to give Jack a sympathetic shrug and smile. Sandy was huddled deep into his sand cloud, teeth chattering silently, while Aster stood below him and grumbled as he shifted restlessly, looking incredibly uncomftorble. MiM tried to look regal and controlled, but his hands were rubbing together in a thawing motion, North by his side and, other than Jack, the only one not trembling, wearing layer upon layer of animal fur.

Pitch and I just stood and glared out the window, both of us with crossed arms and trembling in the bitter cold that had managed to seep in over the past five minutes. We all stood and looked out the window, but to be honesty there wasn't much to see. Nothing other than white and frost, that is, packed tightly against the window and every other window in the Workshop.

"I didn't mean to, I just...you guys were getting all worked up and I kinda...it just happened, okay! Don't blame me! You guys were the ones making everything all tense and uncomftorble, it's not my fault I cause a freaking snowpocalypse when things get awkward!" Jack defended, gripping the shepard's crook beside me. Snowpocalypse was actually a pretty good term for what Jack had unleashed during the meeting, only noticing it while Pitch and I were too preocupied with making everything the most dramatic thing ever.

I didn't blame Jack, honestly. Poor kid had been put through a lot with his family arguing and the whole 'MiM's-actually-kind-of-a-jackass' thing, along with having the man who gave him severe nightmares a few months ago now living in close quarters. No, I didn't blame Jack for completely covering the entire workshop in ridiculous amounts of snow, along with probably most of the area around it. I was actually kind of impressed, that kind of power coming from a little freak-out.

But I was still in complete disbelief that things could possibly get any worse.

"We just really cannot catch a break, can we?" I asked, grabbing my forearms within the massive sleeves of the sweater, a chill rushing in from the cracks all over the workshop.

"At least I remembered to close ze opening to overlook!" North exclaimed, and this time I just gave him a tired, incredulous look. He beamed down at us, holding his arms out as if nothing were wrong and this little silver lining meant everything was going to be okay, that it was all going to get better because there wasn't any snow piled over the Workshop benches.

"Oh yes, how _wonderful_,"Pitch drawled, rolling his eyes as the nightmare and butterfly duo made their appearence, trodding over to me and rubbing it's body against mine for warmth, "Now we're just trapped in here whilst Hal decides which spirit he wants to kill next. Lovely. When's dinner?"

"I neva' thought I'd say this but...I agree with the bastard, this ain't a time fer smiles an' jokin' North. If we don' get ta Hal before his crook mind thinks up somethin' else, somethin' worse, then-"

"Oh, you all worry too much!" North boomed, and I stared at him wide-eyed, slightly in shock of his sudden cheer and smile, the innocent and naive happiness I remembered criticizing when this whole mess first started. Now, I wasn't so sure how much I'd warmed up to it yet.

"Oh yeah, sorry about worrying that the guy who shot me amassing a giant fucking army of creatures that none of you can fight because they feed off your fear and tragedies. Man, I really need to chill out." I deadpanned, and North waved a dismissing hand at me, my jaw dropping at how...easily he was taking this whole thing.

"But North, Astrid's right! This is serious, we need to find a way out soon!" Tooth chirped in worriedly, but still North kept up his act of ease and smiles, eyes twinkling in either joy or insanity. I still hadn't decided.

"Es good thing!"

"...Alright, I gotta hear this one." I mummbled, almost able to see my breath in front of my face and feeling my face chill, sniffling a bit as the temperature continued to drop. North reached out a hand and patted Aster's back, almost sending him tumbling forward and earning a harsh glare that I almost snickered at, had I felt my face wasn't slowly freezing in place.

"Everyone es grumpy-faced and huff-and-puffing! Lately, things have been not been easy, agreed. We all have reasons to be short-fused and yell like old married couple."

"What was that last one?" Pitch interrupted, but got bowled over, though I could swear I saw something in North's eyes as he continued.

"With all that has happened, we all are spent and worried about one another, as well as ourselves. Yes, scary-faced man es still out there, but what is there that we do about it? Nothing! Why fret over snow when we can take opportunity by horns and use as relax-time until next morning?" North boomed, hands flying into the sky enthusiastically. I just kind of stood there for a second, pausing...

"I have no idea what you just said." I admitted.

"He means that we will partake in a small reprieve from our troubles and wait it out until the morning. I assume in that time he will percieve some ridiculous plan to plow through these mountains of snow, probably involving the use of Frost, and we will use tonight's rest to replenish us for tomorrow." Pitch translated, and I raised my eyebrows, nodding.

"Oohh, alright. Sounds cool to me. I'm gonna hit the showers, Tooth you got my clothes yet?" I asked, seeing her face immediatly light up.

"Sure do! I'll put them in the shower rooms so they're nice and warm when you come out!" She exclaimed, and I gave her a smirk as she instantly darted off, probably thankful for the excuse to move and warm herself.

"How do you understand that but not me?" North asked incredulously, pointing to Pitch as Sandy made signs to MiM too fast for me to understand.

"He speaks English." I responded mutely, nodding to Pitch as I turned to a still guilty-looking Jack. He frowned out the window as Aster complained more to North about how we should be doing more, his eyes catching mine for a second in a way that was too fast to read. I nudged the frost spirit and he turned to me surprised, as if forgetting I was there in the first place.

I did feel bad, remembering how Jack and I did hang out at least a little bit in the start of this. But, with everything having happened, I'd fallen a bit behind in it, leaving the kid out of my thoughts when really he and I probably needed each other's company more so than anyone else.

"Hey, meet me in the kitchen in half an hour, alright? We'll make some hot chocolate..." I trailed off, making sure North was busy reassuring a frustrated Aster and MiM was speaking hushedly with a curious-looking Sandy, Pitch shaking his head at the whole lot, before leaning in and whispering, "And I've got an idea for dinner that might liven the place up a bit. You in?"

For a moment Jack looked worried and weighted down like he'd looked lately, but it thawed almost instantly into that look of mischeif that I'd been drawn to from the beginning, smirking and giving me a quick and reassuring nod. And I didn't know what it was about the kid that made me relax, made me smile back with an actualy, true-to-heart smile, and made all of the stress and fear and anxiety wound tightly inside of me to uncoil and dissapear. But hell, if he was the Guardian of Fun, the kid sure was good at it.

"Bloody hell, fine! Jus' don' go complainin' ta me when Hal's got some suped-up plan we didn't expect tomorra'!" Aster exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Calm down, Aster," I hushed, walking past him and trailing a hand across the nightmare's mane, the creature following me with the butterfly fluttering slowly alongside him, "If anything happens we'll just blame you anyways."

"Well that might be but...OI! WAIT!"

I chuckled as he called after me, only turning around to stick my tongue out at him, seeing North booming with laughter, Sandy trying to cover chuckling, Pitch rolling his eyes affectionatly, and MiM, who looked out the window with albeit a calmer expression, but one that was thinking. Thinking and unreadable.

_~Sanderson Mansnoozie~_

Curious. Curious and odd. Though those weren't things that were new to us, were they? No, certainly not, but this was truly a different kind of curious and odd. Of course North was curious and odd, as was Jack and Tooth's little exchanges, Aster's quick behavioral switch between us and his well-loved eggs. Yes, our little group was odd and curious.

But what was going on now seemed a great deal different. I was the only one who seemed to notice it, but that wasn't unusual. I could see into everyone's dreams, could see what generally they didn't remember upon waking up, but I saw what they thought in sleep and noticed it reflected when they were awake. And our little group was going through a few changes.

North, while tending to dream up new toy ideas and his past as Nicholas St. North, the greatest thief in all of Russia, now kept his unconcious mind occupied with worries over Astrid and the rest of us, bothered by our safety and Hal's low-lying threat. That might have explained why he wanted a bit of a break, knowing we were all safe and happy, even if it meant for one night only.

Tooth's dreams still contained thoughts of young children and their memories, worries over her workers, but it was laced with little images of Astrid smiling, of Astrid worried. She truly did care about that girl, as little as Astrid may know it, almost like a sister even. So Tooth of course fretted over her as such. She also had quick flashes of Astrid and Pitch, not so much dreams as memories of their little exchanges, a dream/memory laced with a bit of suspicion and worry.

And don't get me wrong, I knew exactly what her suspicions were about and how justified they were. I could, afterall, see the dreams of those apart from the Guardians, and that included the Boogeyman and Astrid, whose dreams generally consisted of the other, faint dreams that repaired the mind and soothed the body into sleep. I liked to call them Lullabye Dreams, because they came with images the person needed to most to feel safe and secured. So yes, I suppose I knew faintly what was going on with the two, their dreams shifting a bit lately, but I said nothing. From what I'd silently viewed of them, those two needed each other much more than any of us could comprehend.

And then, of course, there was Aster. He had told us of Pitch's reveal to him during the days that Astrid slept and Pitch was too weak with his own nightmares to be anywhere but her side and his own bed, and while I'd known part of it, I was surprised with the dreams it filled his head with. Dreams of hurting her again, dreams of losing her, dreams of what he had done to Jack and paralleling it with her. Aster was rarely one to take blame, but with this...I was afraid it was hurting my friend more than it should have.

Jack's dreams almost mimicked North's, worried about his new family and all, which was why the entire snowstorm wasn't exactly a surprise to me. But the most curious and odd of all of us was the one who had been with us the shortest amount of time. The Man in the Moon was dreaming odd and curious things, things I had a hard time stringing into place. Dreams of Astrid, of her missing. Dreams of a chessboard with the White Queen missing and the White King having fallen in the process. The Black King just staying there, as if watching the other pieces.

Though when I questioned him about this, he brushed it off as nothing. Now that I knew was wrong, and knew lying to me was impossible. I saw the most truthful part of people, the part of them they hid whenever possible. And from what I saw of MiM, Astrid seemed to mean something different to him than he was letting on. What, I couldn't tell. But it was there.

I looked at my group of friends, seeing them behaving normally, Pitch silently slipping away into the shadows, MiM starring out the window, Aster and Nicholas arguing, Tooth fluttering about somewhere else, Astrid gone to escape for a time. Our little group that was still just as wonderful and odd as before, just with a few added members...and as happy as I would like to be to have a break, to have everyone bond in ways that only we could, I knew. Because I always knew, even if I didn't want to. Things weren't going to be as kind to our group for long, as they were now.

_~Astrid~_

The shower was nice, mainly because it was warm, but also because it could easily fit a family of ten inside of it. I could run from one side to the other in three seconds (I'd tried) and run the width in five, the shower being a rectangular shape with the entire ceiling being the shower head, like walking through a pepermint-scented rain storm. I did all I could to warm up, taking an extra ten minutes to force myself out of the shower, before sliding back the massive glass door and grabbing a massive fluffy towel.

The entire room was covered in steam, with a gigantic(I noticed quite a large trend in the Workshop) mirror and sink/shelf to my right, a half-mahogany, half-tile wall to my left with a small metal bar. From said bar hung my clothes, folded neatly and, from what I could see, entirely blood-free, which was impressive from the memory of just how much blood there had been. Sighing and shaking water from my hair, hearing the little droplets fall all over the silent room, I walked over and tugged on my jeans and the black bra that went under my a-bit-less-than-half tribal shirt.

After I pulled on the bra, though, swiping across my collar bone to rid myself of some of the sweat and steam, I felt my fingers brush across something that sent an immediate wave of electricity and shivers down my entire body.

"The hell...?" I whispered, immediatly turning around and walking over to the mirror, reaching a hand forward and swiping it across the hot glass until I'd cleared away enough of the steam to have a clear view of myself.

And then I remembered Pitch telling me what I didn't want to see. And I realized exactly why.

My breath caught in my throat. A trembling hand reached up and, just to see if it were real, just to see if it were just some allusion caused by the steam in the room, trailed two fingers across the 'patched up' wound over my sternum. I felt it again, that uncomftorble vibration running through me, like pressing an exposed nerve, making it hard to breathe and my lungs heave for a moment, just a moment. And I couldn't even feel horror. All I could do was stare at it.

There, just below my collarbone and right in the center of my sternum, was a bullet-hole sized black smudge, as if someone had taken charcole and rubbed it on my skin. It was blackest in the center, slowly fading out as it got closer to the edges until only a few little streaks reached to about an inch long, the rest surprisingly small. Then again, the bullet couldn't have been that big, the gun itself was rather small. But that took nothing away from it, away from the black smudge that I knew went deeper, way deeper, than just my skin. Because I felt it. _Felt it..._

A dread slid down my spine, and my hand froze over the 'smudge'. Because I remembered what this was. This was what I'd felt when I'd woken up, the stifling, suffocating fear and tragedy, feeling it in my chest, in my lungs, in my blood and bones. One hand steadied myself on the counter, the other lightly touching fingertips to the edge of the wound. Remembering Pitch's words. _'We used Hal's trick against him.'_

"It's not as bad as it looks." I jumped out of my skin as the familiar voice spoke quietly in my ear, gasping but unable to turn around, feeling him directly behind me and placing one hand on the counter over my own, his other hand moving to lace fingers lightly with the one on the edge of the wound, now looking into the half-foggy mirror and seeing him there behind me.

His face was serious, head dipped down next to mine, body out of focus in the steam of the room, hands mimicking the positions of mine. And there I stood, shaking, paler than usual and looking like a cross between a panick and asthma attack, chest struggling to move as I felt my lungs filling up again, felt them thicken with a fear, with a smoke, skin prickling uncomftrobly...

"Shh, stop panicking. Just breathe, Astrid, don't let it into your mind." His breath whispered across my ear, his eyes locking with mine in the mirror, strong gold and silver with dark green.

"I can't..."I struggled, each breath pulled in strangled, each heave harder than the last. And then Pitch got a look in his eye, a look I'd only ever seen in Jack and looked a bit more...deadly in the eyes of Pitch. Mischief.

"Very well. Allow me to help you take your mind off of it."

The room around me spun as strong hands wrapped stronger arms around me, feet fumbling for balance as, before I knew what was happening, my back was roughly shoved against the wall and a familiar heat was just a breath away from me. As I regained my bearings, I looked up, and felt a severe blush crawl across my face. Because this was...unexpected...and close. Very. Very. Close.

Pitch smirked down at me, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head in mock innocence, when in reality he had one hand pressing my left hip back and the other hand placed firmly on my waist, drawing tingling circles with his thumb, and I was all-too aware of something in particular.

He had decided not to wear a shirt. The bastard. The toned, lean bastard. I hated him. Him and his easy definition and heart-thudding smirk. Damn him.

"P-Pitch, just wh-what the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded, voice shaking as I cursed it. He leaned in a bit closer until our bodies were almost touching and gave me that smug-ass look of his, cooing quietly,

"I'm helping you breathe."

"Well you're doing a shitty job of it!"

"Am I now?"

I was about to respond to him, but just as I opened my mouth to speak he covered it with his own. I felt an immediate shiver run down my spine and was, for a moment, caught between punching him and kissing him back. In the end, begrudgingly, the latter won out, but only because the insistent bastard didn't really give me a choice. I pushed into it and my hands sought leverage on his forearms, just before his elbows as I used them to push up a bit, well aware of the height difference.

And suddenly, I realized his plan wasn't actually all that bad. Because in an instant everything else melted away. Because in this moment, I forgot everything about the wound, and the suffocation, and though my mouth was covered I found breathing to come all too easy, found my body relaxing, and found a different kind of shiver down my neck. Because this was Pitch. I could taste it, taste _him_, feel him, smell him. I was surrounded by him, and that was a feeling I was used to, a feeling of complete protection, a silent kiss that spoke miles of words.

Which was why, when he pulled back a bit too soon, I was about to protest. And then the sneaky bastard shut me the hell up again.

He pressed a chaste kiss to my jaw, his breath ghosting over my already-damp skin, chilling it in the warm atmosphere, the steam around the room beginning to thin. My breath caught in my throat as he moved lower, leaving an open-mouthed kiss just below my jaw, my hands moving instinctively up to his shoulders to gain leverage and something more solid to hold onto, feeling the muscles along the way and the smooth skin.

I felt him chuckle against my skin and had enough sense in my to curse at him and mutter,

"Smug bastard." He hummed against my skin, nuzzling a certain spot lower on my neck and making me flinch backwards, heart skipping a beat and electricity running through my body, head falling back a bit as an embarrased blush flew across my face.

"I can live with that if you can." He breathed across that spot on my neck, silencing me with another kiss, this time a bit firmer. I closed my eyes, only because I didn't want to see how completely red my face was in the mirror, feeling his hands tighten on my hip and waist. He continued to leave a flurry of open-mouthed kisses across the side of my neck, then down the center of my throat, each time drawing me further and further from words.

And then he got past my collarbone, and paused. And in the silence I could hear my panting, hear the pounding of my heart, and got a bit of an ego boost as I heard his own breathing, quieter, but still panting, leaving cold spots on my skin as he paused a moment in thought. I squirmed a bit, not wanting to voice it, but secretly wanting to feel his lips on my skin again, feel the soft heat, the sealed promise of protection.

And then he kissed the wound, right above my sternum, light as air. My heart stopped a moment, the gesture so tender, so purposefully gentle, that I exhaled and found one of my hands lacing into his hair, feeling coarse and soft at the same time, leaning my own head forward a bit as my other hand moved to the back of his neck. He paused, seeming to understand, and then repeated the gesture to just outside the wound, his hand on my waist suddenly wrapping around and pulling me a bit away from the wall and into almost an embrace, nuzzling in a shockingly tender gesture against my collarbone.

"I hate you." He whispered against my skin.

"I hate you, too." I managed back breathily, feeling him chuckle as I let myself smile a bit breathlessly, his skin on my bare back, soft and tender, expecting nothing more than this. His face shifted again, and I waited for his lips to ghost over the wound again, in a way that made it seem less horrible and much more intimate, calming almost. I waited for it, feeling his breath and the heat across my face-

"Pitch! I forgot one eensy beensy thing about-!"

The door had slammed open, and all I could do was stare in stunned horror at North, who had walked in at probably the worst time known to all man kind. And he gave us the same wide-eyed stare back. Pitch just leveled him with a cool look of apathy. And he stood there. Silent. Took in the scene. And slowly inched the door closed as he backed away as carefully as possible.

And then I melted into a vortex of agony and horror.

"Kill me. Kill me now. Just do it." I deadpanned, groaning and thudding my head back against the wall, wishing I could just melt into it with the horror and embarrasement devouring me internally.

"Don't be so dramatic." Pitch scolded, shifting so that he held me by my hips, me snapping him with an incredulous glare, his face apathetic and calm.

"Fucking _Santa_ just walked in on us doing..._that_! Do you understand I will never be able to look him in the eye again! I can't, it's just...just...oh my god, why does this shit happen to me." I groaned, turning away from Pitch and burying my face in my arms against the wall, closing my eyes and hoping this was all just some horrible dream.

A hand resting steadily on my back assured me that, no, it was not a dream and that yes, Nicholas St. North had walked into a literally steamy makeout session, and I would never live down the emotional trauma ever. I groaned again.

"I hate my life."

"Oh please, you're not even alive."

"AND YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

His arms slid around my waist and I felt his upper body press to my back, a kiss planted on my shoulder as I felt him chuckle.

"Why don't you care that that just happened?" I asked tiredly, and he shrugged behind me.

"To be honest, I couldn't care less what that oaf thinks of me. Besides, you honestly think he'll breathe a word of it to anyone? I don't think that comes up in normal conversation." He mused easily, one hand sliding along my stomach and tracing lazy circles on it. And, despite the most traumatizing moment of my entire life, I could feel myself already relaxing. Damn him and his relaxing touch.

"I've got to go meet Jack, and you have to...I don't know...put a shirt on or some shit."

"I did come in here with the intention to take a shower. It's not my fault you happened to be here."

I rolled my eyes and moved easily away, pulling on the tribal shirt and hoodie in a few easy movement, turning and frowning as Pitch as he leaned cooly on the wall, arms crossed across his body as I gulped and coughed, quickly walking past him to hide any sign of a blush.

"Does that mean we're still on for dinner?"

"Asshat."

_-Half an Hour Later-_

"How are we gonna explain this to North?"

"Dude, I don't even know how we did it."

"..."

"Blame Pitch." Jack and I chorused in agreement, nodding our heads as we looked at what probably used to be a kitchen. We couldn't really tell at the moment, at least not through the layers of cheese, ice, flour, crushed-up peppermint, and a few elves stuck to the mess on the ceiling, cabinets, and rolling around on the floor.

"How did you manage to get the cheese shaped like Abraham Lincoln?" I asked, looking up on the ceiling at the perfectly-shaped cheese blob, Jack looking up too as the sound of a piece of ice and flour fell crashing to the island in the center of the room.

"Huh, I didn't even notice that. Imagine the chances." Jack mused, self-impressed, just before the door right behind us slammed open and made both of us scream in a pitch neither of us were proud of, jumping forward and spinning around(slipping a bit on some mysterious liquid). And there in the doorway was said owner of the kitchen we just horribly mutilated beyond recognition. And for a moment, he actually looked happy, as if the news he was going to bring us was full of kindness and butterflies...

...And then he took a look around. A long look around. Jack and I exchanged a quick glance, wide-eyed and knowing we were in some deeeep shit, my only way out being that North may not want to have direct conversation after what he'd walked into awhile ago. So, with a silent communication only teenagers were capable of, we both locked eyes onto North and began to shimmy to the side, barely picking up our feet as we slid along the messy, slick floor.

And man, we were almost out, just beside North when he looked up and paused.

"...Why does cheese look like Honest Abe?" He asked, and Jack and I tensed a bit, wondering if that were going to be the only conciquence, Jack giving a nervous laugh as he offered,

"Well, you see...Astrid and I thought it would be a great idea to make dinner for everyone...with the elves..."

"And then the elves started eating the cheese, so we tried to see how well they'd stick to the walls if we melted it..."

"And I used a bit of ice to help them out, because it became a competition for them..."

"But we thought it was taking too long so we tried to make hot chocolate..."

"And everything after that's kinda hazy, to be honest."

Jack and I paused, both eyeing the small space between North and the doorframe, both calculating that we were small enough to fit through one-by-one, now just debating who would be the first and who would be left to chance. Just as Jack made a face that he was definitly going first, we heard a weird suction sound, followed by a loud and wet-sounding 'SQUAT', both of us flinching inwardly and knowing exactly what had just happened.

"...Okay, let's not be hasty now-"

"BOTH ON NAUGHTY LIST!" North boomed, spinning to face us with a nice face-full of Abraham Lincoln's dairy-like silouhette, Jack and I jumping, me muttering under my breath,

"I thought I was on the permanent one..." Jack elbowed me harshly in the ribs to shut me up, both of us making quick angry mouthings at the other before snapping to attention, North flicking off the cheese from his face, the substance landing on some elf somewhere behind him, his face grumpy and like that of a disgruntled parent.

Jack and I stood like kids in trouble.

"Vat punishment es suitable for mess?" He asked, crossing his arms and pulling that old 'choose-your-fate' card, one eyebrow raised and frowning under his massive beard. Jack and I exchanged looks one last time before I took over, shoving my hands in my hoodie pocket and looking apologetically up at North.

"Sorry, it's just...ya know, we really _did _want to make dinner for everyone, we just thought getting the elves out of your hair would give you more time to relax and enjoy this afternoon...but we really did make a mess, didn't we?" I said, looking around and having to hold back a smile as North's frown wavered, eyebrows raising gently in sympathy. "Hey, how about we clean this up, huh?" I offered, looking back at North with the best puppy-dog face I could muster.

And the old man's angry face broke. Honestly, I didn't believe he was really angry to begin with. He got these giant puppy eyes and a sympathetic look, looking around and then letting out a massive sigh, holding his hands by his sides before looking back at us with a slight smile.

"Oh, es all in good fun, no? Yes! Phil will clean later, I have dinner already prepared! Now go you two, washy washy before you eat! Go, go!" He ushered us out, Jack and I grinning and Jack flying over to give North a big hug. North's shell finally melted and he hugged Jack back like he was his own son, patting the younger spirit's back twice before releasing him off out the door. I looked up at North as he gave me a slightly questioning look, tilting my head to the side in confusion.

"What's up, North?" I asked finally, and he raised his thick brows as he said simply, holding his hands out,

"I am trying to respect bubble of space, I know es not easy for you to make contact with other who are not Pitch." And man, I knew he meant it innocently, but the second he said it my entire face flashed bright-red, the heat reaching to my ears and neck as I remembered how horrific that whole incident was, suddenly wishing I'd run out with Jack. North paused for a second, confused, and then completely turned face as he threw his head back in massive booming laughter.

"Oh ho ho ho! Ha ha ha! Es too funny, look on your face! Es red as Christmas ornament!" He exclaimed, hands on his belly as I frowned and sunk into my shoulders, huffing. Great. Now he thought it was hilarious, Pitch was apathetic, and I felt like Tooth had been hinting about something all evening, having stopped in and asked why I wasn't with Pitch with some coy-ass look in her eye. Was I the only one disturbed by this whole thing?!

North managed to calm himself down enough to open the door a bit for me and say,

"Astrid, when I first met you I knew you harbored great pains, but with Pitch they seemed...less important. You both balance the other nicely, and I assumed there was something even if you two were playing the wishy-washy denial game, yes? I am just happy to see you happy. You make Workshop...very alive, bring happiness to everyone whether know it or not." I paused in surprise at his words, seeing him smile with that twinkle in his eye, reaching down and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Am very glad I got to know you, Astrid. Are wonderful girl. Of course, I would have liked to not walk in on you and Boogeyman," My face shot red again, but North only chuckled and released my shoulder, stepping back and giving me space to walk through the door, "Just remember, Astrid, whatever happens tomorrow, whatever has hapened between you and Manny, you will always have place here, and with all Guardians. Afterall, protecting children es what we do, regardless of age!"

You'd think that after awhile I'd get used to North and the Guardians' hospitality. You'd be very, very wrong. I gave North a quick nod, trying to keep all the warmth and emotions inside of me, walked a few steps out of the room, stopped, and took in a deep breath.

And I sprinted back and wrapped my arms around him for just a few seconds, then quickly stepped away before he could know what happened and nodded, facing the floor and shoving my hands into my pockets.

"Thanks." I muttered, and then turned, leaving the room without looking back...but feeling considerably lighter.

_-That Night, After Dinner-_

The fireplace pressed a soothing warmth into the area of the Workshop below the overlook, Christmas tree guarding us and fire sending a soft light onto the armchair that Jack and Tooth cuddled in, having just sat in there to talk and laugh but ended up falling asleep halfway through one of Tooth's stories, now with Jack's arm over her shoulder and her head rested on his chest, both smiling stupidly. Sandy slept in a sand-made sleeping bag on the floor, smiling happily as sand-dolphins jumped in circles over his head.

I was just happy to sit and watch, kneese pulled to my chest on the couch with my arms wrapped around them and just relaxing on the massively cusioned couch North had dragged in, creating a makeshift living room. It was meant for us all to just sit and talk before going to bed, to rest off the massive, fantastic dinner we'd had, but with North taking forever and a day to make the hot chocolate almost everyone had either ventured off or fallen asleep.

I hadn't seen Pitch since he excused himself from dinner, him and MiM flashing each other a glance that got me a bit worried, had an elf not taken the chance to snatch up the rest of Pitch's dessert. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen MiM since then, either...

"Bunch a' gumbies, ain't they?" Aster asked in good humor, surprising me a bit as he suddenly sat down next to me, nodding to the sleeping trio before us. I shrugged but still smiled, relaxing back in the couch and just sitting there for a moment, silence falling over us for a few minutes...but this wasn't the normal silence.

This was a comftorble, complaciant silence. Neither of us expected anything from the other, and we just...sat. He scratched the scruff on his chest and I looked as Sandy's dream shifted to mini dinosaurs of all shapes and sizes, and the only sound was the fire crackling and yetis digging outside, planning on making some headway before Jack helped with a majoraty of it tomorrow. And I realized that maybe today was a hell of a better idea than I first thought, because for the first time...I almost felt like I belonged. Like everything was right. Like this was what I'd been going towards ever since I broke from MiM, ever since that day...

"What did I used ta be like?"

The question caught me off-guard, and I looked up at Aster a bit confused, seeing him reclining and flipping a boomerang in his paw. I paused a second when I realized it was a legitimate question, his eyes on the fire and the boomerang. I waited to find the words, and then shrugged and looked forward again.

"Well...cocky, confident, perfecionistic, kind of a tough-guy complex...so pretty much the same as you are now, except a bit less brooding." I mused.

"Oi!" He exclaimed in his defense, and nudged me playfully and angrily with his hand. The gesture was light and, to most siblings, normal. But we weren't most siblings, and the laughter that followed after it was surprised and...almost cautious. As if I didn't want this moment to end, but at the same time I was waiting for it to.

"Hey, you asked! I mean, of couse you weren't all...furry. Man, that took some getting used to when I first saw you again." I said chuckling, shaking my head and remembering how I'd been caught between shock and dying of laughter when I'd seen what he'd become. "But I guess it made sense, once I thought about it. You had a lot of accomplishments, but by far the most impressive was how fast you were. Said you ran as fast as a bunny, which totally makes sense now that I'm really thinking about it."

"...I always thought that maybe I'd been chosen 'cuz a who I used ta be..." He said, and suddenly his voice was very far-away and serious. I rested my head back against the couch and looked at him, seeing a frown as he held the boomerang in his hands, looking it over as if the designs would give him any sign. And he let out a quiet breath, shaking his head ever-so-slightly.

"Now I wonda' if I weren't jus' chosen cuz Manny felt guilty 'bout you.." His words caught me off-guard, but not as much as my own words did, coming instantly and without thought.

"Bullshit." I said almost harshly, and he quickly looked over at me in surprise, and though I hadn't expected those words from myself I knew they were true. Because here I was, sitting next to my big brother, and nothing felt wrong. Nothing felt like it was before...but nothing ever would. If feeling not-terrible was as good as I was gonna get, then that's what I was gonna be thankful for. That's what I'd take.

"Listen here, moron," I said, head still reclined as I gave him a serious stare, the words coming from somewhere I didn't know, "MiM's an ass, and yeah that sound's exactly like something he'd do...but if I'm gonna give him any credit it's that he never choses wrong...well maybe Hal, but he worked out for a long fucking time...but other than that, every spirit he's ever chosen has been chosen for himself, but also for the kids.

"Don't tell me that if he'd chosen anyone but North to be Santa Clause that they would have done a better job, cuz they couldn't. Believe it or not, Aster, there are a lot of other sibling-spirits out there, because the chance of one child being something special and the other not is actually pretty low. Take those Octuplets for Hannuka, or Father Time and Mother Nature, or those freaking water spirit siblings? It happens more often than you think, and we just happened to be one hell of a case.

"Besides, even if that were the case, which it's not, think about it this way: He didn't have to make you a Guardian. MiM is a frightened man, and when Pitch challenged him...well shit, he wasn't about to skimp on his Guardians, ya know? He could have chosen someone else if he didn't think you were up to it, but he did. He chose you to be one of his right-hand men and protect children, and shit Aster, you're damn good at it! Sophie's face lit up when she saw you, and you do a damn good job every single year, a job you put your heart into because painting's always been a gift of yours, but so have children.

"So you wanna be all broody and mopey about your life? Well that's my thing, so stop, alright? I need some sort of shtick or I'd get boring. What do I do? Send out butterflies? Really? Stop being so dramatic, you were chosen cuz you kick ass, you furry asshat." I finished, rolling my eyes and looking forward again, huffing. And it was all silent for a moment.

"...Was that a bonding moment?"

"Yep."

"Hey Astrid."

"Mhm."

"...Was I a good big-brotha'?"

"...The best."

There was only silence after that, just two seriously messed-up siblings sitting together at the North Pole, both heavily avoiding what may or may not happen tomorrow, just kind of sitting there and enjoying a time when they didn't have to be anything but silent and together. And there was just us, thinking, until at some point I fell asleep, warm and waiting for hot chocolate.

_~Pitch Black~_

I paused on the overlook, one hand on the railing as I looked down at her, seeing her sleeping peacefully with Aster next to her, as well asleep with his chin on his chest. She was curled up, her chin on her kneese pulled to her chest, soft light falling over a face half-covered with messily cut hair.

"She will be safe tomorrow." I continued looking at Astrid as I half-heartedly replied,

"Are you telling me that, or yourself? I know she'll be safe. I'll be there."

"...You are a creul man, Pitch Black." The voice behind me was wavering in and out of denial and anger, but I had found this evening to be so content and calming that I felt nothing other than ease and an upper hand, eyes falling on the girl below that I wanted one lasting moment with before she did something horribly irresponsible tomorrow.

"Hm? And how's that?" I asked. And for a moment, there was an indrawn breath, and a silence.

"...You said that was the difference between you and I, did you not? Was that just to push me away, to give yourself a chance?" I almost laughed in the man's face, but thought better of it and merely watched as Astrid yawned in her sleep, shifting a bit.

"No." I answered simply, wanting to get down to that girl, finally turning a bit and taking a few steps down before MiM, almost in desperation, called out,

"You said she had to make a choice!" I paused, three steps down, hand hovering over the railing. Behind me, I could almost hear the breaking of a man's heart. I turned a bit, looking halfway over my shoulder, as I said as seriously and simply as possible,

"What makes you think she didn't?"

There were no more words after that. Just a silence that, after a few seconds, I abandoned and walked the rest of the stairs to the floor, making my way over to her. Sparing one glance up, I saw that he was gone, as if I'd been talking to his ghost. Looking back, I was greeted with a tired and half-awake green eye, just having woken up.

"The hell are you just standing there for, you creep?" She grumbled, and I was glad she was in a half-aware state, else she would have made another comment on the smirk that played on my face. The smirk I was sure didn't reach my eyes. Because as I looked down at her, reaching a hand down to brush the hair from her face, I felt a bit of an ache in my chest.

Because I knew what we were going into. I knew that if anything could go wrong, it would. And I knew who would be at it's expense.

"C'mere." She mummbled sleepily, and I obeyed, reaching down and scooping her up so that I could move us to the armchair not a few inches away, across from where Frost and Toothiana slept. I sat us down, Astrid instantly shifting in my lap and grabbing ahold of my robe, tugging on it in an almost adorable way, if I admitted anything to being adorable. I understood, chuckling and leaning down to press a lingering kiss on her lips, taking a breath in as I savored it.

I would not tell myself this was because I wanted to make it last. I didn't need to. We had years, decades, centuries of this left. I pulled away just as she shifted again, nuzzling her face into my collarbone as I gently pressed a hand to the side of her head, the other drawing lazy strokes up and down her spine. I knew she was asleep, and was about to follow her myself, eyes closed, when a voice spoke.

"Ya slip up once, and I'll have yer head on a stick."

"I'll keep that in mind."

_~Nicholas St. North~_

__ "Took long time, but es finally-!" I stopped, pausing as I reached the floor of the Workshop and seeing the scene before me... "Oh. Es naptime." I shrugged, but felt a smile on my face as I set down the tray of hot coco on the small table beside the couch, moving around to make sure everyone was comftorble in the makeshift-bedroom. Was a wonderful idea, sleeping around each other. One I wished I'd thought of...

I chuckled as I saw Sandy dreaming, and felt a warmth in my belly as Jack and Tooth snuggled closer, like teenagers on a summer night. How cute! How adorable, those two were together. I placed my hands on my hips as I saw Aster laying with the couch to himself, foot twitching as I picked up the boomerang from in front of him and placed it in its holder so that it would not fall or harm him in his sleep.

"Silly rabbit." I chuckled, turning...

In all my years of living, I had never expected to see this. Not even after the awkward incident of this morning, no. Because, honestly, I never thought it possible. At least, not before, not before I'd seen how protective he was of her, not before I saw that spark between them when they had banter, when, impossibly, she made him smile. When he broke down the walls around her heart instantly.

Now, it was less of a shock, more of something rare and endearing. She held onto his robe like a safety blanket, completely asleep and trusting, curled up on his lap and nuzzled into his neck like a pillow. And Pitch...Pitch was in a state of vunerable affection I never thought I'd see. Pitch was creul, calculating, the Boogeyman...but now he was not that. Now, I didn't know what he was, as he wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her against him, the other laced through her hair limply, his face buried in her hair and sleeping as if he wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.

And I sighed, knowing that something with Pitch, with Astrid, had something more in meaning to MiM. Knew that we were only seeing the surface of the story...but all the same, as I saw my friends all sleeping happily and safe before the uncertainty of tomorrow, I felt a warmth in my heart and a smile on my face.

Tomorrow was uncertain and dark. But tonight, we were together, and we were a family. I could ask for nothing more than this.


	23. The Defiant Child

_-So I apologize if this comes out a bit later, but I was about, oh, 7/8 through the story, allllmost to the end...and the page failed. You can imagine the agony and horror. But anyway, this is the final chapter, and I can't express how thankful I am that I had all of you there supporting it. This was quite difficult to write in terms of writer's block and time-consuming activities, but you all are so amazing and I hope you all enjoy. 3 -_

_~Astrid~_

_"What'll happen to the trees once we're gone?"_

_"Dunno, anklebita'. Maybe they'll always be here."_

_"Does that mean we will, too?"_

_"Don't see why not." _

Burgess was seven degrees below freezing, but most of that was dedicated to the frost spirit somewhere hidden away, along with all of the others. And it was silent, the only sounds the wind and the steady scent of tragedy that I'd followed here. Burgess. This was where Sophie and Jamie were. And part of me didn't want to think he did this on purpose.

As on-edge as I was, I didn't even flinch when two hands slid across my waist from behind, arms pulling me to a familiar heat and a kiss pressed to my neck, my eyes forward on an open, flat rooftop.

"Don't go." A breath whispered across my jaw, a voice I leaned into, pressing the side of my face to his.

"I have to." I answered just as quietly, seriously as my hands reached up and intertwined fingers with his. He paused a moment, and then cursed quietly. I didn't need to ask. I knew what he meant. The scent had just gotten suddenly stronger, as if surging towards us, and even a shriek from far-off sounded through the night.

Of all the planning, of all the time we'd been given, of all the knowledge, of the entire morning we'd spent hashing out the plan and making it a reality until night time, when MiM was at his strongest...it still felt surreal. It still felt like I was walking in a dream, and I was on the precipiece of waking up into a very harsh, very terrible reality. And what made it worse was knowing what could go wrong, and as well not knowing _everything_ that could go wrong. It was Hal. He was unpredictable.

"...Do you regret it?" Pitch asked quietly. And I knew he wasn't talking about this. The night grew almost suddenly darker, and in seconds Pitch would have to step back into the shadows, and me into the dim light of streetlamps and stars. And I thought about it quickly, about all of it, all the way from the very beginning. And I shook my head.

"Never."

I felt him dissipate under my fingers, and suddenly I felt extremely unbalanced. Raw. Vunerable. Fragile. And that was ridiculous, because I knew now more than ever that I was safe, that I wasn't alone and they were all there, hiding in corners, laying in wait for the time to be right...but still I felt my skin crawl, and the spot through my sternum began to ache, as if reacting to his presence, my breathing labored either from anticipation, fear, or having a hole in my chest. Because I knew he was there, I knew Pitch was somewhere in the shadows and watching me, waiting...but I still felt far away from everyone, from everything.

And for a moment, everything was perfectly silent.

Everything, as if the night had shut its eyes and turned away from the events about to unfold, deserting them and leaving the morning to wake upon the pieces left, to view the aftermath. It was all still, so perfectly still, with snow-covered rooftops and streetlamps casting warm, yellow light upon the slick streets below. And it almost could have been like any other night, before it all happened. Like a night where I would give out small tragedies, explore the towns, wait for Pitch to show up. Yes, it very well could have been.

And for a moment, I missed the past.

"How horribly dissapointing, isn't it?" I gasped and jumped, stumbling and landing clumsily on the rooftop in front of me, skidding to a stop as a knee-jerk reaction spun me around, a torrent of smoke shooting up to where I'd just been standing, to where the voice had spoken being me like to an old friend. But the smoke just cut through air and dissipated, nothing there...

And then I realized. Something was off. Something was horribly off. The scent of tragedy that had been steadily growing had stopped completely, and even as I tried to detect it in the air it was gone, stilted, no trace of it any where. The creatures weren't here. But Hal was.

"Honestly, though it breaks my heart to see you like this, I am a bit impressed." I spun around and saw Hal standing there as if nothing were wrong, standing two yards away from me with one arm being held behind his back by his other hand, offering a sad pout, his eyes off, that quick flicker of something not-quite-right flashing back memories. "That being said, I was honestly hoping my precious babies were wrong when they said they'd seen you. I just...didn't want to fail you."

He spoke with a calm, and as he locked eyes with me I felt a sudden wave of nausia hit me, hard, my jaw clenching and skin prickling, seeing him just as confident, just as insain as he was the day he'd shot me. And suddenly everything stopped being the past, it stopped being a dream, and reality struck me hard, too hard. His eyes, I saw them, looking into them was like looking into that moment, all of it crashing in on me all at once. Remembering it, the pain, the cold, the blood, the prickling feeling of my limbs falling asleep, Pitch's face, the darkness surrounding me that wasn't his, wasn't normal, and I felt it, I _felt it_, and I couldn't breathe, my lungs convulsing, skin itching...

"Aw, Astrid, are you afraid?" He whispered, and I saw his pout slowly turn into a grin, his lopsided smirk a bit too lopsided, something flashing across his eyes, "You shouldn't be. Not when you're here with me, safe and sound." Safe and sound. _Safe and sound._

Safe and sound, because the Guardians were here, hiding somewhere below us. Safe and sound, because MiM was here, hiding in wait, searching for the moment, the right moment, to end this once and for all. Safe and sound, because Pitch was watching from the shadows as we spoke, watching and seeing me, knowing my fear, prepared to stop it like he always did.

And they were all here for me, to protect me, to save me if need be. But they wouldn't have to. Because I couldn't die. I wouldn't die. I re-locked eyes with Hal, and this time I was not afraid. No, in fact, quite the opposite. Because something swarmed through me, washing over me and pushing out all the fear, all the anxiety and nerves and nausia and doubt. It pushed them out and settled inside of me, flowed through my veins like fresh blood, pushed into my muscles and bones and lungs, wrapped around me like it had always been there, like an old friend that had been waiting for me to let it out again. The one thing that made me, me. The one thing that would carry me through, that had always carried me through.

I was defiant. And it felt fucking great.

"You're right. Which makes me wonder why you're here, why you're so confident, when you know I'm _safe and sound_, when you know I can't die." I said, voice suddenly stronger, more confident, as I nodded my head up towards the moon, shining down tonight through paper-thin clouds. Hal paused a moment, and then looked upwards, eyes fixing onto the moon above us.

And he kept smiling, as if seeing something beautiful.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" He asked in a hushed whisper, and suddenly my skin ran cold again. Not quite fear, not quite nerves, not quite anxious, but on the borderline, something shifting in my gut, something warning me that this wasn't right, that something was wrong, was off... "So big, so bright, as if it's chasing the darkness away..." His hair fell over his face, casting shadows, the air suddenly shifting. "Astrid..."

Hal looked back at me, and the look on his face was poisonous, was sincere, was happy and sad, was insain and not right, not right at all. Even his voice wasn't right, a tad too high, a reverent whisper.

"I am _not_ the darkness."

It all happened so suddenly, so fast, that for a moment I went blind. The smell hit me hard and I wretched, vision blank, as suddenly everything around me exploded, ripping through the silence with shrieks, rattling, a massive torrenting sound of an army moving as one, so loud and so painful, lungs convulsing and closing, heaving as the pollution invaded my body, clogged my lungs, clung to my arteries and veins, filled me up.

I heaved and clawed at my chest, my heart pounding painfully, the wound in my sternum suddenly erupting in a horrible, agonizing pain, making me call out hoarsely, body trembling. My skin itched, my bones ached, and I felt both like I was dying but suspended in living, a torturous feeling of everything happening too fast, too suddenly, like I was going to split in two but the wind around me was too strong to fight through, to wrap my arms around myself.

I felt blood trickle down my right ear, and yet I could still hear. There was a massive battle going on around me, and I couldn't see it, but I could _hear _everything. I could hear the shrieking, the rattling, the shouting, the footfalls, the night exploding into chaos and noise and pain and pollution and tragedy and fear and...

A laugh. A familiar laugh.

_Right in front of me._

My eyes flew open, and suddenly I could see. I saw, but I didn't see everything. I didn't see the creatures, forming a funnel-like wave all around us, standing in the spotlight-like clearing in the center. I didn't see nightmares rearing up and ripping, stomping, tearing at the creatures. I didn't see Pitch spinning and throwing and panting and fighting with everything he had in himself. I didn't see the Guardians fighting through the creatures despite their own fear, despite Jack's hyperventilation and agony. I didn't see Aster fighting with everything he had to get to me.

No, I didn't see everything. But I _saw_. Right in front of me, I saw.

I saw Hal, closer to me now than he had been before, his fingertips holding my left hand lightly, smiling at me half-feral, half-open, panting with a fire of victory in his eyes, a fire of excitement. I saw him laughing, despite the hand through his chest.

I saw MiM behind him, looking down in horror as his own hand impaled his child through the chest. I saw the disgustion, the wretched agony on his own face with the realization of his own decision, the realization that he had no choice. I saw his arm through Hal's thin chest, and his hand cupping something that looked like a condensed moonbeam, bright and pulsating, the thin light eminating from it dripping through his fingers like liquid light.

And I saw Hal lean in, me frozen in place by horror and shock, MiM standing still as I looked past him. Hal leaning in until his breath was against my ear, hearing the soft chuckling as it died down. And then I realized. It hit me hard, like a truck, and I could feel my own heart stop. I felt ice slide down my spine. And all I could do was say it, say it out loud before my mind ripped itself apart.

"...You knew..." He laughed hoarsely, out-of-breath, his own whisper pitching and trembling, the laugh and whisper of a dying man, something never quite right about it.

"Let's both share a marvelous death, shall we?"

I saw MiM's eyes widen, but not at himself, not at Hal, not even at me. But behind me. And I saw my name form on his lips, but didn't hear him scream it, didn't hear the shrieking behind me. No, suddenly I didn't see anything but red eyes and darkness as it slammed into me with a force that stole the last breath from my lungs even before my back slammed hard into concrete, my head bouncing off of it as my vision blackened.

And it was odd. Because though I couldn't see, I knew exactly what was happening, but it didn't hurt even half as much as I'd imagined it would. In fact, it didn't hurt at all. It was a tugging, a slight pressure over my sternum. And soon it wasn't even that, soon it was just silence...complete silence, and a darkness, a darkness that was familiar. But it wasn't Pitch's.

A darkness that welcomed me like an old friend, as if it had been waiting for me for quite some time.

A darkness that I thought I'd never be able to have.

A darkness I never thought I wanted.

_~E. Aster Bunnymund~_

It stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. One second it was darkness, swarming and lashing out at me, a torrenting wall of darkness that I ripped through as hard as I could, jaws and claws springing out at me as the fear gripped my heart, telling myself it was these things, that it wasn't real, trying to get to her, because I knew this wasn't the plan. One second, it was just shrieking, the calls of the others barely registering every few seconds, just me alone in the darkness that blew around me like a tornado, voice getting lost as I shouted her name.

One second. And the next, it all stopped.

Suddenly, as if someone had pressed 'pause', it all stopped. The darkness was no longer a blur, the wind dropped dead in the air. The creatures paused in front of me, all frozen in time, posed and hanging in mid-air, claws barred, red eyes wide, maws open and dripping in spit, limbs frozen. And with it, I froze, panting, hearing my own breathing rapid and painful, but I stopped. I waited, because just as suddenly as they had stopped so had my fear. So had everything.

And when it started moving, it wasn't like it had before. The creatures were still as, like wind over sand, they began to slowly break apart. All around me, slowly and completely silently, nightmare sand slid from the bodies as the creatures slowly dissolved, the black grains joining up and pausing for just an instant before slowly, almost lazily coiling past me in long streaks and clumps, all of it going backwards as I watched, raptured by the sight, too worn out to be confused.

And as the sand did, the smoke did the same. It coiled out from cracks, the creatures all finally falling to nothing as the smoke twisted and condensed, until I was looking at a shifting sea of black dotted with grey, light butterflies of smoke. Their wings beat slowly, slowly, as if they were just realizing they could fly again and were testing their own wings, simultaniously opening...closing...opening, until they, too, began to move with the sand, all of it moving behind me, pulling back as if pulling a curtain away from in front of me.

And when they did pull back, once the last butterfly flew behind me and the last grain dissapeared, once I could finally see clear as the night could allow, I almost wished they hadn't. Because I'd imagined every possible outcome of this plan. Every possible outcome, except this one. This, that froze me to place for one instant, and suddenly I went numb.

It was as if my emotions had gone into shock, and I felt nothing, nothing at all. My heart stopped, my breath became thin, and suddenly all I could do in my state of complete numbness was look, observe what was before me. Just look ahead, not even to the sides where the Guardians paused, looking around confused, me the only one facing forward, not even Pitch who panted and looked around as well. No, I just saw the scene right in front of me.

MiM stood there, eyes wide, tears streaming down his face, looking down at two bodies below him. Two teenagers, laying stone-still on the roof, one face-down with black hair fanned out around him, the other face-up. Atop the one laying face-up was the last of the creatures, this one just now beginning to dissipate, something dripping from its jaws that looked exactly like the substance that it was made of. And I knew what it had come from. My mind registered that, just as the creature completely dissapeared, sand and smoke flowing behind me, and the sand from the substance joining it.

But the smoke from the dripping substance did not move. It condensed into a butterfly, but it didn't leave. Instead I watched it trace slow circles around the face of its master, as if trying to wake them, but they didn't respond. They didn't move. Astrid didn't move.

_Astrid didn't move._

Before anyone could blink, before anyone could flinch or even see what had happened while we fought, while the darkness surrounded us, I found myself running at full-speed though she was a mere four bounds away, skidding to a stop at her side. I was numb, I was shaking, but I was thawing. Trembling hands reached down and pulled her up, one paw cradling her head and the other wrapped over her waist, pulling her to me and cradling her carefully, numbly, in complete shock.

And I just...looked at her. Looked at her face, so peaceful. Yes, that's what she looked like. Peaceful, calm, perfectly so. Black pieces of hair fell over her pale face, calm and smooth. But it was too calm. It was too peaceful. It wasn't right. She was never this peaceful. Astrid wasn't peaceful. Astrid was a whirlwind of emotions, never sitting still for a second, never this silent. Her eyes didn't flicker behind her lids. Her pulse didn't move beneath my hands. Her chest was completely still.

It was just her in this moment. I didn't hear the others approach, didn't hear gasps or choked-off cries. I just saw me, saw her, and saw the butterfly that slowly fluttered up to her face. It looked to her, first, tendrils of smoke coming off its delicate wings, observing her as I had. And then it turned to me, and slowly fluttered upwards, my face going with it, facing forward now as it looked at me as if it were a true person, as if it were thinking, considering. Just fluttering there for a moment. And then, in the next moment, it seemed to come to a decision.

Elegantly and suddenly it dissipated into smoke, losing form. Smoke that twirrled in the air, brushing forward across my fur, and with a breath I breathed it all in.

I breathed it in, and suddenly I was no longer on the rooftop.

I was watching a movie one I hadn't seen in a long, long time.

One I'd forgotten.

_The men stood before me, still as statues and tall as trees, the flame between them and me flickering over the darkness of the night, throwing shadows and soft light onto the fronts of the surrounding huts, on the already-intimidating faces of the men before as I knelt humbly before them. And, as the silence continued, I spared a true look up at them, away from the fire. To my surprise, these men, these strong-willed, stone-faced men that I'd respected to a fear my entire life, had faces still intimidating...but also sympathetic, almost sad, gazing down at me as if seeing something else._

_The man standing farthest to the left had a contorting scar down the right side of his cheek, and yet it did nothing to mask the sadness that tainted his stony features. The man in the center, the oldest by far, stood and frowned at me, tears rimming his lower lid, features suddenly more aged than ever before. The darkest of them all, the farthest to the right, held steady a frown that covered more than the man would ever let on._

_ Unlike the others, the did not look at me, instead at the bundle in his arms wrapped carefully in a soft brown cloth as, without a word, he approached me around the fire. I sat still as he knelt before me, no words being spoken as he brought the baby closer to me, taking it up in my arms without needing to be told, out of instinct moreso than responsibility. And for a moment, I too gazed down at the baby girl in my arms, strangely peaceful. She lay there calmly, unaware of the world around her, an infant's innocence and naivety._

_ I looked back up, but the man had swiftly returned to stand by the others, his eyes still on the child and still covering something the others were not so adept at hiding. The eldest fixed me with a gaze, a gaze that held me, and he spoke words that washed over me and were spoken as if they were going to be written in my history, in my mind, words bittersweet and melancholy._

_ "Aster, this child is now yours to protect. Yours to love, to cherish, to teach all that you know. This child before you is now all that you have, and all that you ever will be. She is your life, your blood, your legacy, and as she grows older so you will be to her. Aster, you both now have the entire village to stand by you, but as a family you both stand alone, with only the other to be a crutch in times of pain, a shoulder in times of sadness, and a role-model in times of growth and learning. You both are all the other will ever have."_

_ I looked down at the baby girl in my arms, and even as the eldest spoke I knew. I knew his words before he spoke them, because I had felt them already. The moment I'd laid eyes on this baby girl, on this child that shared my blood, I knew. I would protect her, I would love her, because whenever I looked at her I could imagine myself doing nothing else. I adored her when I first saw her, and had sworn to myself that she would be safe and happy her whole life, that I would take that responsibility unto my shoulders._

_ "Always."_

_ "What does that one mean?" She asked curiously, cocking her head to the side as she pointed at the design being painted onto my arm, the cold pigment not a deterrent as I gazed down, enraptured at the man's hand as he elegantly and swiftly moved, the brush almost a part of him as he moved it to his own will. _

_"Strength." The man answered seriously, me sitting perfectly still, not wanting to deterr this work for one moment. I saw Astrid tilt her head the other way and point to my other arm, where indigo pigment was drying against tanned skin._

_"And that one?"_

_"Speed."_

_"What about that one?"_

_"Hope."_

_"But what-"_

_"Oi, Astrid, hush up! Can't ya see tha' he's tryin' ta focus?" I snapped at her, looking up as she pouted and crossed her own painted arms, seeing a small smudge on the corner of one of the designs, inwardly sighing. But, as the man painted one last stroke onto my upper arm, I saw something incredibly rare cross his face. Something that, while seen on not even a handfull of occasion, did not surprise me that Astrid was able to draw._

_ The man smiled softly, endearingly, the scar on his cheek crinkling a bit as he did, the stone-like frown on his face breaking away in a way that only Astrid was able to do._

_"It's a'right. Anklebiters have curiosity to teach themselves things we have forgotten to." He said in a gravelly tone, accent not quite as thick as my own, more educated and wise. Astrid gave me a smug look and I rolled my eyes at her, but could not stop the smile from finding its way onto my face. The man set the paintbrush into a bowl of water and turned his face to Astrid, asking almost in an amused way,_

_"Would you like to know what your own represent?" Astrid looked up at him curiously and nodded, the man gently pressing a finger on her right upper arm, on a design similar to my own. "Strength," He said, Astrid looking down at it with innocent fascination on her young face, "Something shared by you and your brother both, something engrained into your hearts through trial and fire."_

_ He motioned for her other arm and she moved it towards him, placing his calloused finger on it, seeing a flash of amusement in his deep black eyes as he traced over the slight smudge._

_"Affection, given to you at birth when everyone in the village first laid eyes upon you, and each man and woman swore their protection and love to you. Just a baby, and yet you were able to capture the hearts of all who saw you, not a word spoken or cry uttered." He moved his finger to her forehead, where a much more intricate design was drawn by the skilled hand of a woman in the village, the lines more elegant and thin than my own, depicting the wings of a butterfly._

_ "Defiance, which has been within you from your very beginning. Something that will get you through when you least think you can survive, when death and tragedy are wrought upon you, this is what will save you. It is yours, and yours only, shared by no one else. It thrives and lives not here, but here." And as he said 'here', he pointed to just over her heart. "Forever."_

_ "Aster! Aster!" I heard, hearing hurried footsteps into the hut after the excited voice of my sister. I didn't remove my eyes from the pelt that my hand brushed across, indigo markings lining it with the brush in my hand, focusing._

_"What's wrong, sheila?" I asked, tilting my head._

_"Look what I found! It was abandoned in the grove, all alone!" She insisted, and I let out a slow breath before deciding to humor her, knowing Astrid rarely interrupted me unless it was out of boredom or emergency, and seeing as how urgent her voice sounded, I settled on the latter to take my brush from the pelt that would mark my rise in respect amoungst the elders and turned to her._

_ She stood there, shifting restlessly on her feet and holding in her arms a bundle in a brow fabric she was supposed to be collecting berries in. Instead, she took a corner and peeled it back, revealing something small and black. I raised my eyebrows and placed my hands on my hips, balancing the brush between my fingers as I said, smiling,_

_"Ah! Ya caught a nice-lookin' dinner, huh? Good onya, sheila." But she glared up at me, that flare behind her eyes that was uniquely hers, pulling the bundle closer to herself as she snapped,_

_"No! We aren't gonna eat him! He was all alone up there, and they're neva' alone at this age, neva'! He must have been abandoned." _

_"Oi, ya lost yer bloody mind?" I asked, realizing what she meant and pointing to the bundle in her arms, the beady eyes of the rabbit looking around its surroundings suspiciously, "Ya can't jus' keep it, if that's what yer sayin'! Those things eitha' get eaten or cause illnesses, whatcha think yer doin' by tryin' ta keep it here?"_

_ "But Aster, it was all alone!" She insisted, and as she did I saw something odd. The bunny, very small and infantile, squirmed and almost cuddled into her, moving in closer as if seeking protection in her arms. Even bunnies, even the youngest, were hostile when it came to being captured. I'd seen rabbits tear at a man's face, seen them bite clean through hands and fight like wolves to avoid being so much as approached by humans, and yet here this one was perfectly complacent and almost...calm, in her arms._

_ I watched as she reached up and drew her fingertips across the scruff of its neck, looking up at me with a frown._

_"It was all alone, Aster. It lost its parents, its own pack, it was all alone. Nothing deserves to be alone, we all deserve someone who understands us, regardless of differences. I won't turn it away, if that's what you're asking me to do." She said, words so strong for a girl not yet eight years old, a face so set that she looked wise and strong beyond her years. And as I looked into that face, the face I'd seen many times, saw the flame flickering behind her eyes, I knew I'd lost. Not just because of her words, not just because I never truly could say not to her, but because Astrid did what was in her heart. That was what made her so special._

_ I sighed in defeat and groaned, looking up at the ceiling,_

_"Why can't I jus' have a sista' that does normal things?"_

_"Yes!" Astrid exclaimed, and I hid my grin as she beamed down at the curious bunny in her arms, "You hear that? You get to stay with us, Bunny Mund!"_

_"Bunny Mund?" I asked curiously, and she shrugged, looking up at me in a matter-of-fact way._

_"Our calling name is Mund, and it's a Bunny. Duh."_

_"Big brother?" Her curious voice continued speaking, as she had been for the past few hours that I'd been working on her designs, the grass now matted below us and the trees patiently listening behind her. I focused on my strokes, perfecting each one as I paid special attention to the one on her forehead, the one that resembled something so special to who she was. I wanted to make this my best one, not just because I sought the approval of the man who had taught me to do this, but because this was her day, her 10th year of living, and a right of passage._

_She, on the other hand, was not taking this nearly as seriously as I was, rambling on absent-mindedly in her quirky, care-free kind of way._

_"Yeah?" I mummbled in concentration, the indigo contrasting against pale skin._

_"What'll happen if we're separated for aloooong, long time. I mean likereeeallylong, years and years?" She asked very pointedly, and I sighed a bit. I was used to questions like these, Astrid never truly being curious about average things like the normal child, so I answered as tiredly and boredly as I could._

_"Why would you ask a question like that, kip?"_

_"I'm just curious." She said so simply that I broke a smile and chuckled, dipping the brush in the indigo paint and returning carefully to the design._

_"Haha, well I'd look for you, wouldn't I?" _

_"But what if you couldn't find me, would you find another little sister?" This time her words caught me off-guard, and I stopped halfway through a stroke to sit back and look at her, seeing only bright emerald eyes greeting me in serious curiosity. A twinge of pain in my chest sounded, wondering why she'd ever think something like that, ever think that anyone else could ever replace her. This girl that may have captured the hearts of everyone in the village, even those that travelled to ours to trade, but never any so much as my own._

_The girl that made me swell with pride in everything she did, in every witty quip and defiant action. The girl that had been on the mind of the eldest memeber of the village council, the man who had told me to protect her all those years ago, and who had called me in with his dying breaths. He had looked me in the eye and said how proud Astrid and I had made him, how he had loved our parents as he loved us as his own children, and saw something special in the both of us. How we had overcome what felled others, how we both had something unique about the two of us that would carry us through our lives._

_He had told me to continue watching over Astrid as he hoped he could do to me, once he had gone wherever he would go, hoping that he could watch and see what magnificent things we would do with our lives. Together, and never any other way._

_"Oh Astrid, c'mere. Listen, I'd never, not in a million years, ever find another little sister. You're my only one, and that's pretty good for me." I said, hands on either side of her face. Finally, she broke a smile, the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen, the smile that would melt the hearts of the village boys in a few years and be the envy and endearment of many others._

_"...Promise you'll never forget about me?"_

_I pulled her tightly to me, not caring any longer about smudging the marks._

_"I promise."_

_"Aster...what? You mean..."_

_I didn't know who she was._

_"I mean what, sheila?"_

_Her face was unfamiliar..._

_"...I just thought, after you..."_

_"Wanna try makin' some sense, cuz ya sound like ye've got the wrong person here, anklebita'."_

_...But something inside of me..._

_"...Why can't you just remember? I mean, I know that I...I mean...I tried."_

_...Something deep...too deep..._

_"Listen, I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout...who are you, anyway?"_

_"The bloody hell was that, huh?"_

_"I...I didn't mean to..."_

_I was just angry...it was Sophie, and I was just so angry..._

_"Whadda ya mean ya didn't mean to? Then explain how that happened! Ya know what could have happened to Sophie?!"_

_I didn't even realize how panicked she looked, I didn't notice until..._

_"I was just trying to...she touched me, I didn't want her to-"_

_"Want her ta touch the bloody smoke? Seems like ya did a crook job of that!"_

_Why couldn't I just listen to her?..._

_"I tried not to hurt her! I fucking tried, okay?! She touched me and I wasn't expecting it and so I jumped because I was trying to protect her! I didn't mean for that to happen! You think I can fucking control it?! You think I asked for this?! Do you?! I was having fun! I was happy! They saw me! I would never do that! Never!"_

_Why didn't I see? Why didn't I stop?.._

_"Then why didja, huh?!"_

_No...no stop..._

_"I knew takin' ya in was a crook idea. You've been nothin' but trouble since the day I eva' met ya! When have ya eva' done any good, huh?!"_

_No, I don't want to remember this..._

_"Never! Never, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"_

_No.._

_"Do you want me to list off to you all the terrible things I've done, huh?! Because they go on for a long fucking time, okay! I never asked for this! I never wanted any of this! I just wanted to be normal and have my family back! I just want my fucking family back!"_

_Family...she wanted...she wanted me. She wanted me back, but I..._

_"...Family?"_

_I didn't remember, how could I not remember? How could I have..._

_"You don't remember anything, DO YOU?!"_

_...Forgotten?_

_"If ya want me ta rememba' somethin' so bloody bad, then make me."_

_"...After everything you've done..."_

_She was going to make me remember. _

_"...I couldn't do that to you."_

_Astrid..._

_"...Deserting a person would be more of your job, wouldn't it?"_

_I..._

_"You are the brother!"_

_I..._

_"Promise you'll never forget me?"_

And she was laying there again. Not moving, too peaceful, too still. And I was looking down at her, and I could feel the breath catch in my throat. Because she was laying there, just laying there, and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Because I did...I did...but it was too late. It was too late. I had all this time, but it ran out, and now...now she would never know. She thought I lied. But I didn't. Not forever. But she wouldn't know that. Because she didn't have forever. We didn't have forever. Not anymore.

I curled over her, trembling, pulling her to me and pressing her face into my chest, breath trembling, a painful lump in my throat, slowly closing my eyes and feeling something wet fall down my face. And I couldn't do anything. Nothing mattered anymore. But I had to, even though it was too late, even though it didn't mean anything. Because she deserved it. She deserved it earlier than this. And I said it. But it didn't mean anything now. Not now. And never again. But I still said it with a hoarse voice, a pain etched into my chest, and memories. Memories I forgot. But not now. Never again...

"_I remember._"

Tooth choked off another cry.

North took a sharp, painful breath.

Jack audibly trembled.

Pitch made a noise of pure pain in the back of his throat.

And I closed my eyes and tried not to die.

And in my mind, I heard a chuckled. A familiar chuckle.

And a hoarse jab.

"It's about fucking time."

It took me all of three seconds to realize it wasn't in my mind. And moment longer to piece myself together enough to shakily and slowly sit up, and to look into a half-open pair of dark emerald eyes, and a signature smirk.

Into a face that was nothing but defiant.

_~Astrid~_

I wasn't sure what was happening for a moment, just that the darkness had gone away just before it fully embraced me, that it had been driven back by something brighter, something stronger than itself, feeling my entire body being pulled backwards by a string in my chest. The next moment Aster was holding me, trembling like he'd been caught in a snowstorm, and my face was pressed into the fur of his chest. And he said it. He said it, and man do I wish I knew what happened, because _he fucking said it,_ and maybe I should have reacted better, but damnit I'd just died and come back. And it was all I could do to keep from crying like I heard the others doing.

"It's about fucking time." My voice was hoarse, and I was a bit drowsy, but it came out alright. And I felt him stop, his trembling suddenly ceasing for just a moment before it picked up again, this time considerably more tame, and it took him a few moments to actually sit up, to actually look down at me, tears matting the fur beneath his red-rimmed eyes, wide in shock and disbelief.

Eyes I'd missed so fucking much. And I didn't know what else to do. So I laughed, and I smiled, and I reached a hand up and tried to dry off as much as I could from under his eyes.

"Big freaking cry-baby, pull yourself together. You look like you've seen a ghost." I joked, but he didn't laugh. No, instead he pulled me into the most bone-crushing hug I'd ever experienced in my entire life. I coughed and wheezed, feeling him crush my chest as he trembled again, pressing my face into his shoulder and holding me in a vice-like grip. "Aster, can't...breathe..."

"Just up, ya bloody show-pony! You jus' died, give me a bloody second will ya?!" He snapped at me, and I laughed though it hurt, managing to snake my arms up and around his neck. My fingers laced through his fur, smiling and looking down across his back, letting out a shaky breath.

"You mean it?"I whispered quietly, so that only he could hear it. Because I had to know. I had to. Just...just to make sure it was real. To make sure this had actually happened and...

"Sorry 'bout lettin' Mund get lost in tha forest. That was actually an accident. Ya loved tha thing so much, I wouldn't do it on purpose." He whispered back, and I gave a shocked, choked cry, fighting back tears of my own. Because that was his voice. That was _his _voice. I took in a quick, strangled breath, because I couldn't explain how I felt. Couldn't explain how, after centuries, all I had to do was die to get him to remember. It was just that easy...

"...Sorry about not talking to you for two weeks about that." I whispered back, voice shaking as if I gave a shit. He hugged me tighter, if possible, and just laughed. Just...just laughed until it died down into relief, into us just hugging because we missed each other, because we were sorry, because we didn't want to let go again.

But we had to. Because there were others behind us, waiting for their own chance.

"Es...es..." I heard a shaking, high-pitched Russian accent say, and I moved, Aster letting me move back from the hug and helping me stand, his paws on my shaking and unsteady shoulders until I felt my feet under me again, until my strength slowly ebbed back into my legs. And I looked up, and saw all of them. And that warmth, that tightness, that light in my chest? Yeah, that came back with a vengence.

Jack was smiling like an idiot despite the frozen tears on his face, hands gripping the staff like his life depended on it. Sandy was silently laughing, shaking his head and just smiling, smiling and almost crying. Tooth wasn't even hiding it, hands pressed to her mouth as she sobbed, this time in what looked like complete happiness, smiling with tears running down her face. North blubbered like a fat Russian baby.

And then I saw Pitch. He stood stone still, hands by his sides, jaw tight and eyes glaring at me in pure anger, almost shaking with it, shadows trembling on the hem of his robe. Aster tried to put a hand on my shoulder as I stepped forward, but I brushed it off easily. Because I saw Pitch's face, and I recognized that look. I saw beneath it.

I stepped up to him and didn't say a word, just gave him a look, a look only he could read, still glaring at me venomously, and then slid my arms around his waist, between his stiff arms. And I hugged him, sure, but that wasn't the point. One hand pressed to his lower back. The other drew gentle fingertips up and down his spine. And I looked up at him and smirked, right into his glare.

"Hey, see? I told you it would all work out. All I had to do was die. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeasy." I joked, voice slowly getting back to normal. And his lips tightened, his brow furrowed, and I saw him holding back a sob. And god damnit if he wasn't so fucking beautiful. "Oh for fuck's sake, just do it, asshat." I snapped, and before I'd even finished talking he'd gripped my jaw in both hands and pulled my face up, leaning down and crushing our lips together in a hungry, tearful, silencing kiss.

My hands moved around to wrap themselves in his robe, pulling him closer, because we both wanted this. We both needed this. Because for the first time, we were promising each other something that we knew now that we could give. We were promising each other forever.

"Ewwww! Make it stop! North, North, please make them stop! Oh god, I did _not _need to see this! Oh MiM, my innocence!" Jack cries made me laugh, breaking the kiss as Pitch held my face firmly in front of his, panting with a smile on his face, caught between crying and laughing, my own hands moving up to fold over his.

"But...but how?" He asked, eyes scouring my face, as if re-memorizing it. And I didn't know how, couldn't tell you when I'd figured it out...I just kind of...knew. And I smiled coyly, stepping back and taking his hands from my face, still holding one firmly in my right hand as I turned around and saw him, the smiling, smug-ass bastard. And for the first time, I gave him a smile back.

"Guess this means I'm not super-immortal now, huh?" I asked, and he offered a light-hearted shrug.

"It was all I could think of at a moment's notice. Are you glad now that I did not use it then, so that I could use it now?" He asked lightly, and I laughed, and then instantly stopped and frowned at him sharply.

"No. No I'm fucking not. I'm still pissed about that." I deadpanned, but instead of hurt I saw almost relief in his eyes. And he smiled as if he knew something I didn't, something maybe I'd never know. And he nodded to me before leaning down and scooping up Hal, whose body I hadn't seen until just now. It was limp as MiM stood, cradling the suddenly young-looking boy in his arms.

And for a moment, as I looked at him...for an insain moment, I felt sad. Because I could see it, in his closed eyes, his head laying backwards and long black hair falling down, that he was just a skinny boy. A skinny boy that just wanted to make people laugh, and got shoved in over his head. And part of me, and insain part, almost felt like he didn't deserve this. It was unavoidable, it was the only choice, but...but he hadn't started out insain. He started out as a boy. And that's what he looked like now.

"What are you gonna do with him?" I asked, and MiM gazed down at Hal Overture Wean with as much bittersweet sadness as I felt, a father looking at his child.

"I am going to bury him where he was born and raised, and perhaps where he should have been long ago. The tradition of Halloween will carry on in his memory, but with much hope he can now rest and enjoy it." He paused, the clouds above suddenly parting, a stronger-than-should-be moonbeam falling on just him, illuminating white hair and Hal's pale face. And MiM looked at me, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw something else.

"Astrid...do take care." He said, but I felt as if he wanted to say more, so much more...but those were his only words, and with them, the moonbeam blinked. And by the time it was gone, in a mere second, so was he and Hal, and the memory that anything at all had happened here tonight.

And before I could speak, two massive arms wrapped around Pitch and me and lifted us right off the ground turning us as North cried out joyfully,

"Are safe! Es call for party, for celebration! I es so happy! I love you both!" He kissed first my forehead an then Pitch's, and when I looked over I fell into a hysterical fit of laughter. Pitch looked at North wide-eyed, one eye twitching, jaw tight, completely and utterly disturbed and frozen to his spot. As I was laughing, I felt Tooth suddenly wrap her arms around us as well, and then the two smaller arms of Sandy, the colder ones of Jack who taunted Pitch by pretending to try and kiss him.

"Release me all of you-JACK STOP THAT THIS INSTANT I SWEAR I CAN STILL MAKE YOU WISH-"

"Es big happy family!" North interrupted, squeezing us one last time before finally setting us down. Tooth and Sandy still clung onto me, and I laughed, rolling my eyes and wrapping my arms around the two. I peeked around over Sandy's shoulder, seeing Pitch raging at Jack, North just laughing and whiping tears, Aster pausing and looking at Pitch suspiciously. I then ducked my head between the two and, making sure no one heard, whispered,

"I love you guys, okay? Now if you ever tell anyone I'm gonna kill you both...but I do." Tooth squealed so loudly in my ear that I thought I was going to go deaf and just hugged me tighter, Sandy flashing symbols that looked like he was trying to say, 'she'll never let you forget you said that'. And for some strange reason...I was okay with that.

"A'right, a'right, ya had yer big rally, now we gotta talk." Aster said seriously, and I stepped away from Tooth, seeing Aster glaring at Pitch and eyeing me, pointing between the two of us. And suddenly I shrunk, because yes, I recognized that voice. I'd heard it once before, when I might have sort have possibly kinda liked this dopey kid in the village and Aster had the eye of a fucking hawk.

"Now listen up," He said, me wishing I could be anywhere else and Pitch giving him an apathetic frown, "That there's my little sista', and now that I got my own head screwed back on, that jus' means I rememba' how much she means ta me. Now that's not good new fer ya, Boogeyman, cuz if ya eva think ya can pull a stunt like that," Hinting at the kiss, which I now almost regretted with all my heart, "In front a me again, I'll have yer damn head on a stick! An' if I eva' smell anythin' off, if there's even an inkling that yer not bein' 100% perfect ta her, we're gonna have a big problem, ey mate?"

_'Please don't be an asshat please don't be an asshat please don't be an asshat.'_

"You seem to be under the impression that she doesn't mean absolutely everything to me, rabbit." Pitch said simply, and everyone froze. Even Aster looked caught off-guard, eyes wide and jaw slightly slack, definitly not expecting that.

"Woah." Jack said, Tooth squeeling quietly. But, most importantly, Aster stopped talking.

Pitch and I simultaniously high-fived each other.

And North promptly burst into tears again, and thus proceeded the longest and biggest bear-hug in history. And I didn't mind it, really. Not anymore at least. Because this was my family.

I'd like to say that I knew everything was going to be okay from then on, I'd like to say that in this moment I thought our life was going to be easy. But c'mon now, we were us. Nothing was easy, not even when we wanted it to be...but this time, thinking about the future, I wasn't afraid. Because this time was different. This time, compared to before, there were a lot of different things. Five, to be exact, all hugging me right in this moment, each shouting and crying and laughing. And in this moment, when I realized that yeah, the future might be tough, and maybe I wasn't so immortal anymore, but I had something I never thought I'd have again. I had a family. A big, stupid, weird family.

And I looked up at the moon.

And I swear to MiM, I saw the fucking thing smile.

And what the hell, I was supposed to be a defiant little shit.

So I smirked back.


	24. One-Shot 1: Meeting the Parents

_-Hey everyone! So, instead of posting one-shots as separate stories, I've decided to keep them within this story so that you guys would get the updates. I'm writing these because you guys asked, and I felt that a few little snippits of Aster and Astrid's past and her and Pitch's relationship past, present, and future couldn't hurt! Feel free to suggest any one-shots, and I'll be doing these strictly on an inspiration-basis, so not as regular as the actual series was. This will be around the time turned seven, and then jump into the present. Enjoy!-_

_~Astrid~_

"The boys said something odd today." I mentioned curiously, Aster's arms raised up high as he cinched the rough rope tightly to the tree, the other end snaking down somewhere amoungst the green leaves that creeped up its trunk, ending somewhere hidden under the foliage under our own feet.

"Oi, boys'll do that sheila. Don' suppose it get's any betta' with age, eitha'." He threw back, voice slightly strained as he reached up higher to make sure the rope would stay and whatever wild animal it found would not tear it from the tree easily. I shifted the empty basket in my arms, the coarse material rubbing my arms, a slight tone of boredom in the afternoon.

"But this time it was really odd. Very hushed, as if tha others weren't supposed to hear. They said something 'bout how I might never really learn how ta live my life correctly because I didn't have a father or a motha'." I mentioned airily, thinking back on the incident and the worried looks in my friends faces, their heads tilting as I scrunched up my face. I wasn't quite sure what they meant, and once the two youngests' mother walked over to see what all the fuss was about they dropped the subject quickly, and we went on playing in the grass.

But their words had started something in my mind. Something about me and the other village children, something that separated me from them. I knew I was a bit different, somehow, but it hadn't been until that moment, those boys' hushed whispers, that I'd truly realized what, exactly, it was.

I noticed an odd silence and looked up from my feet, seeing Aster suddenly tensed, the muscles in his back shifting under tanned skin, his hands straying down the tree as if descending in thought. He did not turn to look at me, but I could well place the tension in his voice as he asked finally,

"...What boys said that?" I tilted my head, confused at the slight angry tone in his voice, at the struggle it took to speak, and wondered if I'd said something wrong or offensive towards him. When I didn't answer immediatly, he turned, and when he did I saw a look on his face I'd never seen before, a look on the normally calm or serious face of my brother, skin normally smooth now taught and tense. I saw something in his jaw shift, as if switching into a different position to allow for the emotion to show.

His eyes were dark, and he'd forgotten all about the trap, and I was beginning to feel a bit bad, as if he were angry at me.

"Which ones said tha', Astrid." Oh yes, he only said my name if he were really, truly angry. I shrunk back a bit and pushed out my lip absentmindedly, not meaning to offend him or anger him, just wanting to ask a simple question that I myself saw no immediate harm in.

"Just boys! Aster, it's nothing horrible, honestly! Don't know why you're getting so upset, I just wanted to know why we don't have a motha and father like that other kids?" I asked defensively, grip tightening on the basket. In my own mind it was a simple question, an observation that I wondered if Aster knew the answer to. If it hadn't been brought up before, obviously it couldn't be that important for Aster to act like the boys had just told me something mean or nasty.

After I spoke I saw something shift in Aster's face, saw his eyes widen a bit and his jaw loosen, mouth opening a bit as if he were going to say something but his face was to relaxed to give the effort. He looked as if I'd just told him something sad, almost, with that look in his eyes. And again I felt bad, frowning and saying quickly,

"I didn't mean to make you sad, big brother! I was just wondering, but if it's that awful you don't have to." He took in a breath, eyes flickering over me as if just realizing I was there, and he tensed as if unsure what to say or do. And I waited, watching these emotions flicker across his face, until he finally closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out loudly through his nose. He was acting rather strange, which only made me crave my answer more and less.

His eyes flickered open to meet mine, and he had this finality in his eyes, a decision. His hands reached forwards and one rough palm found my cheek, the other the side of my head and pushing my hair from my face, a smile that was happy but sad on his face as he looked over my eyes. I waited rather impatiently for him to finally begin.

"...Astrid, we did have a motha' and fatha'. 'Course we did, 'else you wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be here. And they were just like all the otha' parents in the village, 'cept our fatha' was a bit of a troublemaka' and our motha' was calm and beautiful. Guess ya got a little bit more a' fatha' in ya. Those two weren't really the first two lovers you'd expect, but parents nonetheless."

"So what happened to them?" I asked, unaware of how brutal the question actually was. Aster winced quickly, but recovered before I could question him any further. He bit his lip a bit, took a steadying breath, and continued to look over my face as he spoke, as if the words were written there for him.

"...They got...sick. Yeah, real sick, right afta' ya were born. And they...they passed to somewhere else, somewhere they wouldn't be sick no more. Don' know where exactly, they neva' said. It was fast, their sickness, but they wanted ta make sure we were well taken-care of by the otha's. That's why the otha parents help out with ya when I'm gone, keep ya outta trouble.

"...But before they left, they gave me somethin'. Somethin' I'll neva ferget." He said, this time his smile almost entirely happy, me silent and listening, curiosity being both ebbed and ignited as he spoke. When he finally spoke again, he was sighing and voice steady, "They gave me you, anklebita'."

"Me?" I asked, "Well that's an odd gift." He laughed and now his smile was much happier, nose crinkling a bit as he said, hands never leaving my face,

"Yeah, odd!...But fer good reason. They knew they couldn' be here ta teach ya anythin' when ya grew up, none of tha' important basic stuff at least. They knew the cookin' and weavin' could be taught by otha' women, and huntin' and history came from me an' the elders, but they wanted ta make sure ya were safe. That's me. That's what they wanted me ta do, protect ya...

"But what those boys said was wrong. There's a level of things otha's can teach ya that yer parents don't have ta. Even without, ya got more love an' affection and learnin' than even those with parents ever could. What they were talkin' 'bout...that can't be taught. Yer life is made up of more than what otha's can teach ya, it's 'bout yer own decisions and what ya can teach yerself.

"Our mum said somethin' 'bout ya right when she first laid eyes on ya: 'This child of mine is special. She will not be like the rest. Her life will be great.'. An' ya know what? I think she's right. I think yer gonna have one wild ride, Astrid. Don't you let anyone eva' tell ya anythin' differently. Yer special, and ya do special, wonderful things."

"...Aster?"

"Hm?"

"What will you do with your life?" He laughed and leaned forward, kissing my forehead and pulling me to him, the basket all that was separating us.

"Keepin' ya outta trouble, I figure." He teased, and though I laughed I shook my head.

"No, I think you'll do something much easier. Like painting. I think you'll be very good at painting, and you and Bunnymund can paint things for children to make them happy when they feel they need to be happy." I reasoned, and he huffed in amusement.

"Bunnymund's a bunny, anklebita'. Bunnies can't paint." He teased, tapping the back of my head. I shrugged, looking into the basket and seeing the small bunny sleeping soundly, quick breaths and a happy little face.

"You never know. Maybe they can."

_-Centuries Later, In A Clearing In The Forest-_

"So basically I died like, what, three times? Well, technically maybe only two, but I figure if you get to die more than once in your life you must have had one hell of a life, right? I mean it beat _death_, and not just that, but that whole thing that I told you about with Aster and the others, and that Hal guy, and MiM... I mean that wasn't easy, definitly not easy, but the funny thing is...it was worth it.

"I mean I had all these pretty cool adventures, and I got to see the world grow into all these awesome things, and I'll get to see the rest of it maybe if I can keep myself out of trouble. I mean Aster tries, but let's be serious, he wasn't that good at it before anyways. Speaking of Aster, him and I have kind of...I don't know, mended fences? It's not like it was before, not all the time. There are still things we have to remember, things we have to learn again, and some things will never come easily again...but it's okay.

"Because we still have each other, right? That's what you guys wanted. In the end, you got it...and I hope you got that other thing you wanted, too. I mean...I tried really hard to give it to you. Sometimes it was hard, real hard, but I think I did pretty okay for the circumstances I was given. Over all those years...for awhile I thought I wasn't exactly doing as good as I thought I could.

"A lot of times I thought back and I wondered...well, I mean my company wasn't always what you'd probably approve of, and my actions weren't always innocent, and I'm not that sweet girl you might have envisioned me becoming, but when you chalk it all up in the end I did some good! I've got these great friends now, I think you'd have liked them, and Aster and I are getting better, and now there are these two little kids, Jamie and Sophie, their great and they can see me and they kind of remind me of Aster and me when we were little. I think you'd have liked them, too.

"And I guess I kind of have a pet now, with that nightmare and the butterfly not exactly wanting to dissipate and just kind of being with each other all the time. And I help out with holidays, I make kids happy, and I'm learning how to sew from Tooth, who's this really pretty woman with wings that kind of talks a lot, but I like her, and I go on all these cool trips with everyone, and I live in this super cool castle-thingy underground, and I found out a way to use that gift I got for good, and I'm a lot happier now than I used to be, and MiM and I are starting to almost get along, and I learned how to cook from North who's this big, loveable guy, and then there's Pitch and, well...I think you guys would have liked him, too, once you got to know him...

"...And I just hope you guys are proud of the choices I made. I mean I made them for me, but you guys too...and I miss you. A lot."

They were silent, but then again had they answered I'd have probably been more concerned. Anthrapamorphic bunnies I could handle, but talking trees was pushing it a bit. Instead, they just towered over me, not too tall but not as short as the two on the hill. Dark pink and indigo blue leaves fell from them as the wind stirred through the forest, the filtered sunlight peeking over trees to watch me talk to inanimate objects.

But it was long overdue, and with everything going on, I felt like maybe they'd appreciate me filling them in on a few things. And strangely, though inside I knew they probably couldn't hear and that I was just talking to trees, I felt...almost better, lighter, as if I'd made that connection and they did hear me, and maybe, for the first time, I'd told them something to be proud about.

"So, this is Mr. and Mrs. Mund."

I jumped at the voice, turning my head as I sat on the grass, seeing Pitch standing there as if he'd been there the whole time, looking up at the trees with a leveled and indifferent frown and his hands folded behind his back. I felt a feeling of embarrasement, of humiliation that made me tense up a bit and want to crawl away somewhere, wondering how much he'd heard, what he thought about me talking to treese. I mean he'd seen weirder things...but not really from me.

This was something I'd always done in private, something I didn't exactly do a whole lot, just when I needed...I don't know, when I needed to talk to someone. A parent. It was a very private, very...open moment of vunerability, and some part of me was angry with myself for probably staying out later than normal, causing Pitch to come look for me...and the other part was terrified of what he'd think, of his reaction to something a bit personal for me...

He stood silent for a moment, looking up at them, and I waited in fear and embarrasement, neither saying a word. He watched the trees, I watched him. My heart pounded in my chest, but he looked just as calm as ever, emotions unreadable, shadows on the hem of his robe missing, calm. And I waited for what felt like an eternity.

And then he sat down next to me and greeted politely,

"It's lovely to finally meet both of you. Your daughter has failed to introduce us, I'm afraid. I am Kozmotis Pitchiner, but you may know me as Pitch. I have had the distict pleasure of caring for your daughter for these past few centuries, and I feel glad to inform you that she had formed into a lovely young woman, and I would very much enjoy having permission to continue courting her. I'm afraid it is much too late to ask permission to love her, but in light of recent acquaintance, I hope you accept what I can offer."

I had embarrased myself enough to be able to tell myself that, under no circumstances what-so-ever, I would not tear up. I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinked several times until I could see clearly, and thanked Pitch silently for being entirely focused on the two trees before us, the two that stuck out the most in the forest. I looked at him for a few moments, seeing an easy, gentlemanly smirk across his face, as if charming the parents before taking the girl out on a date.

And shit he was beautiful, and I didn't just mean his outward appearance. And it was a tad bit embarrasing. Not having him walk in on the conversation, not that. It was how I was feeling that unique something, how I was falling into this whatever-it-was, all over again, all in front of my parents.

A breeze blew past, and suddenly more petals began falling from the trees, raining gently over the both of us, twirrling and dancing in the abrupt and gentle breeze. Almost as if in response. Pitch's smirk quirked up a bit and he looked back at me, eyebrows raised slightly, hands folded respectfully in his lap.

"I think they approve." He mused airily, and finally I was able to smile back. We both turned back to the trees, our hands folded in our laps, sitting a good enough space apart to still be close, but not too close. And this time Pitch spoke, and filled them in about the man their daughter was with, and how he promised to be a gentleman and have me home before it got too late(which didn't really matter, considering we both lived together in a freaking cave/castle), and all sorts of other things.

Spoke as if there were nothing odd about talking to trees. Spoke as if he were talking to my mother and father themselves, and it was his job to charm and please them. And I just kind of sat there and listened to him speak, the whole time this indescribable feeling settling around me. And the whole time, I couldn't wipe that stupid smile off my face. Because of all the choices I'd made, this may have been the most important one. The one they'd have wanted to know the most, because the man beside me was quite literally the only reason I was alive, both in the past, the present, and most likely the future of whatever it was between us that was so precious.

And my parents approved of him. Which seemed like poor judgement, approving of the Nightmare King for their one and only daughter for pretty much the rest of all of eternity. But then I thought about what Aster said, about my parents and what they were like. How they were the most unlikely of lovers.

Maybe what Pitch and I had wasn't love. Maybe it was something else, something not yet discovered. But it was good enough for us.

And it was good enough for them.


End file.
